


something sweet (to mend your heart)

by cuteandtwisted



Series: In Every Universe [16]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Even helps Isak fall back in love with love, Even is friends with Isak's ex, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Isak is SO SASSY and BOSS, Jaded and Hurt Isak, M/M, they laugh and banter a LOT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-08 12:45:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13458558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuteandtwisted/pseuds/cuteandtwisted
Summary: "I don't think I ever want to kiss a boy ever again."In which Isak becomes jaded after he gets cheated on and copes using sarcasm and humor. He's determined to end the school year without drama and avoids his ex and all his awful friends at all costs. Well, all of them except maybe half-decent Even Bech Næsheim, who's somehow determined to earn his friendship and fix his heart.Or: Isak is hurt and hardened and Even makes him tender and soft.





	1. something cool

**Author's Note:**

> hiii. i started writing this after listening to The Good Side by Troye Sivan. made me think of someone very dear to my heart and i realized i never tapped into that material lol.  
> so here you go. Isak is basically (literally) me in high school here.
> 
> warning: homophobic language, (brief) explicit unwanted sexual advances
> 
> part 2 is coming soon. editing/polishing. hope you like this <3

**_even_bn_ ** _liked your post._

Isak stares at the notification with furrowed brows. He clicks on the picture itself to check for what could have possibly warranted a ‘like’ from Even Bech Næsheim, and he quickly decides that he’s simply despicable like every single one of Julian’s friends.

It was a picture of a sign that read **_‘If you don’t remember her name in the morning, take her to Starbucks’._ ** Isak had posted it a year or so ago. Before Julian. Before _the whole gay thing._

_Are Julian’s friends stalking me now? They’re going through my Instagram for shits and giggles now?_

“What’s up?” Jonas nudges him from the end of the couch with his foot, probably noticing the frown on his face.

“Nothing,” Isak shrugs then remembers that he’s supposed to be pretending to be happy and over his breakup with _dickface_ Julian. That that’s why he’s here at Jonas’ house instead of in his bed watching horror movies.

Jonas raises one of his eyebrows and Isak immediately knows he won’t let it slide. He’s been kind of hovering lately and Isak hates it. Hates how much Jonas worries all the time. How he’s always giving him reasons to worry, to care, to feel bad. Isak hates it.

“Even fuckface Bech Næsheim is stalking me on insta,” Isak sighs, surrendering.

“Even? I thought he was the nice one,” Jonas offers, putting his own phone down to turn his body towards Isak.

“There’s no nice one, Jonas. They’re all dicks.”

“Because they’re his friends?” Jonas blinks. “I’m sure it’s just out of loyalty. I’m sure Even wouldn’t do what Julian did.”

“Since when do you like Even so much?”

“I don’t,” Jonas sighs. “I mean I don’t even know the guy. I just don’t want you to start hating everyone Julian has ever interacted with because of what he did.”

“I don't hate Even. I just find it strange that he’s liking my posts from a year ago as we speak,” Isak sighs, feeling his nonsensical anger leave him a bit. “Like who does that?”

“Maybe he was stalking you and his finger slipped.”

“Yeah I’m sure his finger happened to slip on the one post where I tried to convince everyone that I was a macho heterosexual,” Isak laughs, but it’s bitter and detached.

“I don't think he'd put that much effort into making you feel like shit.”

“Finally we agree on something,” Isak huffs out then stretches his arms, trying his best to look bored and unaffected. “He’s probably just bored. Whatever.”

“Maybe he likes you? Maybe he’s trying to get your attention?”

“What the hell?” Isak scoffs, his eyes widening a little bit because the possibility of Even liking him has never even crossed his mind.

“I don’t know but it’s been almost two months since the Julian thing. I haven’t hung out with those guys a lot but Even always seemed to enjoy your company,” Jonas replies then picked up his phone with a grin. The smug bastard. “Just a thought.”

“Yes, Jonas. I’m sure he's in love with me. I heard he's into recycling,” Isak jokes then sinks back into the cushioned couch until his face is out of sight.

“Why do you always put yourself down?”

_So that others don't do it for me._

“I like it down here,” Isak says.

“I don't like this self-deprecating thing you got yourself into lately.”

“It’s called _autodérision,_ Jonas. It's French for sense of humor.”

“Fuck it. I give up.”

“Oh no!” Isak pouts dramatically because he’s insufferable like that. “Who's gonna work on convincing me that Even Bech Næsheim is secretly in love with me now?”

Jonas doesn’t reply, probably because he knows that Isak won’t bite and that he’ll carry on with his sarcastic jabs which were mostly directly at himself. They settle into comfortable silence and Isak goes back to staring at the notification from **even_bn.**

He thinks about it, the possibility of Even Bech Næsheim liking him. The fact that he’s on his profile right now, scrolling down and possibly accidentally liking his posts. It’s almost flattering.

_He’s friends with Julian. Your first boyfriend ever. Your ex who broke your heart and cheated on you._

Isak shakes his head right on time for another one of Julian’s friends to comment on the same post Even liked. **_‘If you don’t remember her name in the morning, take her to Starbucks’_ **

**_@davidk97_ ** _i think you meant HIS* name and take HIM* to Starbucks._

Isak stares at it until the words stop making sense, until he can focus on the letters and not the meaning attached to them. He feels a bit numb, a bit humiliated. His hands are in fists. He’s not sure if he wants to fight someone or cry right there on Jonas’ couch.

_Am I being cyber-bullied right now? For real?_

“You’ve gone awfully quiet,” Jonas observes without even looking up from his phone.  

“Just looking at memes. Some are starting to require a certain amount of concentration,” Isak answers and hopes that his voice isn’t betraying him right now. He’s good at this. Pretending that everything’s fine, always.  

“You’re waiting for Even to like more of your old posts, aren’t you?” Jonas chuckles, and for a moment Isak wishes he could tell him that _no._ That he's in fact holding his breath and bracing himself for more of Julian’s friends to start commenting and making fun of him and of how deep in the closet he was just a year ago.

“Something like that,” Isak breathes, his thumb hovering over the ‘delete’ button. He’s about to delete David’s comment. He doesn’t care what he thinks.

“I’m telling you. I’m pretty sure he has a thing for you, that Even guy.”

“Right.”

Isak deletes the entire post.

.

It’s almost the end of the school year and Isak clings to that fact rather desperately. _Almost_ the end. He won’t have to smile and laugh and crack jokes and pretend to be unbothered by the looks people keep throwing in his direction anymore. He won’t have to keep running into Julian and his friends and to witness their Russtime shenanigans almost every day. He won’t have to keep bumping into the girl Julian cheated on him with — Eili, with the olive skin and the hazel eyes — while the entire school was still gushing over them, Nissen’s very first openly gay couple.

He won’t have to feel like running home because he can’t bear the pity, the whispers, the judging. Even their teachers knew. Everybody knew. About Isak’s heart breaking in two over a boy with short auburn hair. A boy he knew nothing about at first other than the fact that he was bisexual and beautiful and that he made his heart race whenever he walked past him in the hallways.

_‘Poor guy. He came out of the closet for Julian, and Julian just fucked him over and cheated on him with girls the whole time.‘_

Isak didn’t break. It didn’t break him, what Julian did to him. He never missed a single class. He never got up in the middle of the cafeteria and stormed off in tears because Julian and Eili were making out by the window -- no matter how much he wanted to. Isak never broke. He showed up the next day with a pulled up hoodie and headphones and refused to show any sign of weakness. _Fuck him and fuck everyone._

He did lock himself in the bathroom at home when Vilde first texted him about it, careful not to startle his mother who was already fast asleep. He did cry on the floor silently like those pathetic losers on TV because he couldn’t quite believe it. And he did try to question Vilde’s intel for a few seconds given that she was full of shit half the time anyways.

However, deep down, Isak knew. He knew because during their short relationship—three weeks, not counting Isak pining for months—Julian never touched him, almost seemed scared to, never gave in to him, never wanted him.

_“He’s gotta get it somewhere else,”_ Mahdi had snorted when Isak confessed his concerns to him over a few too many budweisers.

Julian did get it somewhere else.

.

Isak focuses on the good side of things. Every single person who’s hurt him happens to be in their third year and they’re all graduating soon. Well, all with the exception of Even Bech Næsheim who’s still a second year. And it’s not like he’s actually hurt him or bothered him after it all went to hell. If anything, Even looked rather sad for Isak, always with a consoling expression on his face, almost as if he could see just how heartbroken Isak really was despite the laughter and the smiles and the shrugs.

_The smiles and shrugs._

“It’s not like I was in love or anything,” Isak says whenever anyone brings it up, always shrugging with a disinterested look while his heart pinches and pinches and pinches.

He was in love or _anything_ after all. His eyes sparkled whenever Julian simply looked at him. His body ached wherever Julian touched him. It was his first time feeling and allowing himself to feel this much affection for another boy after all.

And Julian took something away from him. He took his first love away from him. He made him hate the idea of holding hands. He made him hate the rain. He made him hate kissing boys. He made him hate buses and movie theaters. Julian made him hate everything he used to look forward to.

.

Sometimes, Isak would even turn the entire thing into a joke, figuring that he might as well make fun of himself so that others don’t do it for him.

“Are you going through gay panic? Are you suspecting that you might be becoming bisexual? Are you trying to figure out which team you’re actually playing for? Want to make sure that it’s just a phase? Here’s my number, boys.” Isak puts on a show in the cafeteria and their table is crowded the way it usually is, with familiar faces and not so familiar ones.  

Everybody’s laughing and Isak likes hearing what people sound like when they laugh because of him. He likes it better than what they sound like when they laugh _at_ him or worse: feel sad for him. So he revels in it. He stands up and actually starts scribbling his number on a small piece of paper.

“Any takers, boys?” he jokes, waving it around as he watches Magnus clutch at his stomach like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard.

They’re all laughing except for the person who grabs the piece of paper from Isak’s fingers.

It’s him. Even Bech Næsheim. And he looks upset. He looks like he’s feeling bad for Isak.

And Isak hates him. Absolutely despises him and his face.

“Julian might be with a girl right now, but he's still bisexual,” he says. And although his words are cruel, his voice remains gentle. “Bisexuality is not a phase.”

Isak can’t remember the last time Even’s ever spoken a word to him. But he’s positive that he’s never left him feeling this exposed, this wound up.

“I would have put on this show earlier if I had known it would get the great Even Bech Næsheim to give me one of his life-altering speeches,” Isak replies while holding his gaze and trying to look as disinterested and unaffected as possible because his entire table is watching.

“Julian is a fucking asshole but he doesn’t represent all bisexual guys, you know. There are great bisexuals and pansexuals who would never hurt you like that.”   

Isak stares at him with heat in his chest, because _how dare he_ lecture him in front of all his friends when he’s clearly just trying to make it through the day. How dare he make him sound like the world’s most ignorant and biphobic person. How dare he.

Isak hates him.

“Relax dude. It was a joke,” Magnus says and Isak wants to kiss his face because he can’t think of any words right now. “No need to get offended over everything. Isak wasn’t shitting on bisexuality or whatever.”

But Even ignores him, his eyes remaining locked with Isak’s the entire time. They watch each other for a little while, and Isak can’t help but notice the way Even is holding onto the small paper with his number on it. It’s carefully pressed between his thumb and his index finger, like he’s expecting Isak to reach out and try to steal it away. He’s holding it like it contains the secrets of the universe.

“Didn’t mean to lecture you in the middle of lunch, Isak,” Even eventually says, breaking into an apologetic smile and making Isak wonder how long they’ve just stared at each other for.

“Are you gonna give me that back?” he asks, gesturing to his phone number on the paper.

“I’ll hold onto it,” Even says, now backing out, walking backwards like he’s in a movie or something. _What an idiot._

“Why? You going through a phase, too?” Isak bites in his direction just to see if it will wind him up. And when it doesn’t, he adds, “Sick of the pretty blondes?”

“Quite the opposite actually,” Even replies from a distance now and it takes Isak a second to understand why his table is laughing while Eva attempts a whistle. He technically qualifies as a _pretty blond,_ at least according to the girls.

“Well, don’t get too excited cause I wasn’t dumb enough to write down my real number.”

.

Jonas waits until it’s just the two of them to bring it up. Isak wishes he wouldn’t at all, but he’s Jonas.

“That was your real number though,” he says, his steps light compared to Isak who was dragging his feet.

“He doesn’t have to know that.”

“You don’t want him to text you?”

“I don’t want him to fuck with my head,” Isak replies and it’s the most honest thing he’s said to Jonas in a while.

“I don’t think he would.”

“It doesn't matter. He won’t text,” Isak offers then walks faster.

He used to hate being home. Still does, really. But at least he gets to be alone. At least no one asks him how he’s doing at home.

* * *

**Unknown number**

**18:19**

I wanted to say something else earlier  
But i figured i said too much already

Who is this?

You know who this is :)  
Sorry for my outburst earlier  
I was totally out of line

Sorry i think you have the wrong number

I also wanted to say that  
you deserve better  
Don’t let your heart shrivel up and die because of one asshole  
it would be such a shame

* * *

Isak stares at the texts for longer than he would care to admit. He looks for sarcasm or mockery or entitlement. But he can’t really find any. Perhaps, it’s because part of him can’t believe Even Bech Næsheim actually texted him. The part of him that he’s buried deep down so that he wouldn’t feel so much all the time.  

_My happier self._ The part of him that shriveled up and died.

Isak doesn’t reply to Even’s texts because he doesn’t want this to be a thing. He doesn’t want his pity or his words or his anything.

But when he falls asleep, three words keep him warm in the dark.

_‘You deserve better.’_

It almost feels like a hug.

.

_Only a few weeks until summer._ Isak clings to that idea and smiles to himself when no one is looking. He takes his exams and smokes weed with Jonas and entertains his lunch table.

Everybody knows he is gay now and he doesn’t mind. At least not as much as he feared he would. When he came out, it was with a hand holding his in the schoolyard after all. He was terrified, but Julian was so proud of being bisexual and he was so charismatic and intimidating that Isak would have done anything to impress him and keep him. So he came out. Mostly for him. Because Julian said he would never want to be with someone who’s _‘ashamed of who he is.’_

Thinking back, Isak realizes that nothing in his life is a result of a conscious _choice_ he’s made. He just accepts whatever is thrown his way with his head hanging low. He doesn’t instigate anything. He just accepts and adapts. His father leaves? He adapts. His mother loses it? He deals with it. His boyfriend won’t see him if he doesn’t come out? He comes out. That same boyfriend cheats on him as soon as he does? He shrugs and starts using self-mockery as a coping mechanism.

Nothing is his idea. Nothing is his choice. Not even this party he’s pretending to be enjoying. Isak knew Julian and his friends would be here but he still went along with it because the boys insisted. Isak just goes along with everything.

He’s talking to a blonde girl who won’t stop touching her own hair when he spots Even Bech Næsheim in the crowd. He’s wearing a plaid shirt over a white tee. And Isak doesn’t know why he’s staring but he does.

_How does his hair do that?_

“You never replied to my texts,” Even greets him with a smile. And he’s beautiful, Isak thinks, realizing rather dumbly that he’s never really looked at him before.

“What texts?” Isak smiles right back, bringing his can of beer up to clink it against what looks like a glass of _water?_

“Really?”

“Really.”

They look at each other for a moment, a silent mutual understanding making both of them smile. And Isak realizes that they’ve just had an entire conversation with their eyes.

Even is about to say something and Isak waits because he wouldn’t mind having another one. A silent conversation. But then Even’s face falls when he catches sight of something behind him, and Isak turns his head immediately because he knows what it is.

Julian and Eili, hand in hand, giggling, announcing their arrival at the party.

_Great._

“You okay?” Even asks and it’s filled with pity. Isak wishes the floor could just swallow him whole. Everybody’s about to start looking at him any minute now, carefully anticipating him to storm off or finally break down.

“Yup,” Isak smiles then walks away.

A tall guy—Erik or something—approaches him with a smile sometime later and offers him a drink, which Isak declines. He’s had three drinks already and he doesn’t want to get sloppy. But the guy insists and gets a bit handsy, making Isak realize that this isn’t some friendly chat.

“What do you want?” Isak asks with his back against the wall. He doesn’t mean to but he scans the crowd for Jonas or Magnus or anyone really. Not that he would call them for help, but sometimes he just needs the reassurance. Sometimes, just knowing that his people are around helps keep him grounded, calm, detached.

“How about we go to the bathroom and you put those nice lips around my dick?” Erik answers. And they’re just words but it feels like this this guy has just reached inside Isak’s chest and stolen something. Like he’s just taken a piece of him. He can’t quite believe it. How bad something so stupid can hurt.

“And what makes you think I’d wanna put my lips anywhere near your dick?” Isak replies in the most unimpressed tone. He’s good with words when he’s sick to his stomach. He’s good at pretending that everything is always fine.

“Heard you like it,” the guy smirks. “Getting on your knees. Sucking cock like a good little slut.”

Isak’s heart is hammering in his chest. He’s never been spoken to like this before. He’s never even touched anyone before. Not even Julian. _What the fuck._

“You hear interesting things,” he replies, a little bit weak now because his brain is still trying to come up with something elaborate and smart to shut him down.

“Yeah? So how about we go test my intel?” the guy adds, his breath hot against Isak’s neck, his fingers curling around his wrist to bring his hand to his crotch without anyone around them really noticing. _It’s warm,_ Isak thinks. Warm and hard. Isak has never felt this dirty. This worthless. “Do you feel how hard my dick is simply thinking about it?”

“If you’ve heard things, then I’m sure you also heard I never go for dicks this small.”

Isak is surprised by his own ability to produce such words without hyperventilating. Sometimes he thinks he dissociates and leaves his own body, because he’s not sure who the guy with the empty eyes and the curly blond hair is right now.

“Faggot!” the guy hisses under his breath, shoving him against the wall.

“You too. I guess,” Isak shrugs. “I’d stop watching so much gay porn if I were you. No one will ever suck your dick at this rate.”

“Fuck you.”

“I would say fuck you too, but I’d rather die.”

And then it’s over. The guy is out of sight and Isak can breathe again.

But it doesn’t really work. Because as soon as he spots Jonas after washing his hands in the kitchen sink because he couldn’t afford to wait in line for the restrooms, he feels like crying. He feels like bawling his eyes out from the humiliation. His hand burns.

He pushes through people, suddenly grateful that he’s only had a few drinks, because he’s not sure he’d be able to hold back his tears otherwise. He’s almost outside. He can almost feel the breeze on his skin. Then he hears someone calling after him, making his name sound sweet to his own ears.

“Isak, wait! Isak.”

It’s Even Bech Næsheim.

Isak doesn’t want to talk to him, but he can’t help but think that no one has ever said his name like that. ‘ _Isak’._ He almost wants him to say it again, but he’s too busy trying to stall him and leave the party without him following outside.

Because he needs to cry. And he cannot cry in front of Even Bech Næsheim.

.

The air is as cool and comforting on his skin as he’s imagined it would be. But Isak doesn’t feel comforted in his heart. He still feels disgusting. His hand is burning where it cupped that guy’s junk. He’s just touched someone’s crotch for the first time, and not even that was his choice.

_Fuck._

“Isak, are you okay?” Even asks behind him.

He followed him. Of course. He’s tenacious, this guy.

“Yup. Need some air. Why?” Isak says nonchalantly with his back to Even, hoping he can’t see that he’s shaking. He then shoves his hands in his pockets and pretends to look for something as he buys himself time.

_Calm down. Calm down. Calm down._

Time to stop feeling like _shit._ Time to regain his breath. Time to think of something that would want to make him smile. He wants to smile for some reason. For Even Bech Næsheim.

_‘You deserve better.’ Do I?_

He almost wants to pull out his phone to read the text again. Isak loves that text. It’s his favorite text in the whole damn universe.

“Hey,” he hears Even breathe softly behind him and he knows he’s going to walk towards him. He knows Even is going to put his hand on his shoulder and ask him if he’s alright. He knows it and he dreads it. He’s not prepared for it. He doesn’t want to be touched right now. Isak wants to scream.

_‘You deserve better.’ Do I? Do I?!_

Even stops when they’re a step apart instead, not touching him. He doesn’t ask if he’s alright again either.

“Want me to kick his ass?” Even whispers. “I don’t hit people but I’ll hit him.”

“You’re so dumb,” Isak snorts but then also chokes up. And before he can think about it any further, he turns around and hugs him.

He hugs him and he cries.

Isak has never cried in front of anyone before so he doesn’t know what to expect. He’s had other people cry in front of him. His mother, his father, Eva. But he’s never done the crying himself. He hasn’t because he hates how he feels when his mother cries and he has to comfort her. He hates how he soaks up the sadness and the loneliness. He hates how he feels miserable for days after comforting someone. He hates how they’re free after they’ve cried and how he isn’t. How he keeps all of that hurt with him. Inside him.

So Isak doesn’t cry in front of others. Because he doesn’t want them to feel burdened to comfort him and because, if they do, he doesn’t want them to ever feel the pain he bears with him, inside him.

But the way Even is holding him right now, arms locked tightly around his back without ever panicking or asking what’s wrong, makes Isak think that he can cry in front of him. It makes him feel like Even doesn’t mind comforting him, doesn’t think of him as a burden. It makes him feel like Even can handle it, his pain. Like he’s seen it before. Like perhaps he has.

So he cries in Even Bech Næsheim’s arms. A guy he knows nothing about and who can now cut him deeper than anyone ever has. A guy who now knows that Isak Valtersen is in fact weak and that his eyerolls and his shrugs and his attitude are just a fa **ç** ade. A guy who knows that Isak Valtersen cries and shakes and is broken somewhere inside.

.

“Wanna talk about it?” Even asks once they sit down on the grass and he pulls out a joint.

“Nope.”

“Okay.”

They smoke silently while staring at the night sky above them. And it’s quite beautiful, Isak thinks. He wants to ask Even who he was referring to when he said he would kick _his_ ass, but he refrains.

“Can we-,” Isak starts.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Even interrupts him instantly, resting both elbows on his parted knees as he smokes slow and careful.

“How do I know for sure?”

He turns his head to watch Even because he pauses this time. He seems in deep thought as if Isak’s question has thrown him off.

“I guess you don’t,” Even eventually replies, bringing the joint to his lips. His full and plump lips.  

“You could have said that I should trust you or something.”

“I don’t think you like being told what to do.”

“You’re psychoanalyzing me, Bech Næsheim?” Isak smiles. He doesn’t know why, but he smiles all the same.

“I’m observing you. There’s a difference.”

“How long have you been observing me for?”

“Since August of last year,” Even says in a heartbeat making Isak’s head snap.

They stay like that in silence passing the joint back and forth, with Isak trying to decide whether Even has just implied that he likes him.

“I like you,” Even says when he hands him the joint and it’s blunt. _Like the blunt,_ Isak chuckles at his own dumb joke in his head.

There’s a pregnant pause and then Isak breathes, “Thanks.”

“Do you always say thanks when someone says that they like you?”

“You’re the only person who’s ever said that to me and I said thanks. So I guess it’s always.”

Even laughs and Isak laughs, too. He likes how Even doesn’t get offended, how he understands what he’s really trying to say. Maybe.

“Julian didn’t tell you that he liked you?” Even asks tentatively, like he’s padding an area of skin, prodding.

“Julian said he loved me,” Isak answers and the past tense makes him clench his jaw. It’s ridiculous. They were together for _what? Three weeks?_

“And did you say thanks?”

“No, I said that I wanted to run away from home and be with him forever.”

Isak pauses and bites his lower lip. It feels so strange, being this honest with a relative stranger. He’s not even sure if Even knows he’s being honest.

“You should have said thanks,” Even says, blowing out a beautiful ring of smoke above them, head tilted upwards, like he’s trying to show off his jaw. And somehow it doesn’t seem mean. It almost makes him want to smile.

Isak smiles.

“I’m glad you’re smiling,” Even says and it takes Isak off guard. He adds it to the list of things Even Bech Næsheim does. He notices.

“Thanks,” Isak replies and half-expects Even to say something about his usage of the word _‘Thanks’._

“Your eyelashes are still wet,” Even mumbles instead, his fingers that weren’t holding the joint reaching over to brush against Isak’s eyelashes.

_Who does that._

Isak closes his eyes. But for some reason, he doesn’t flinch.

“Was that weird?” Even asks as he takes his hand back, bringing his thumb to his mouth, then licking it.

“Did you just lick my tears?”

“I guess I did,” Even laughs. “They’re salty.”

“Weirdo.”

“You can touch my eyelashes too, if you want.”

“And why in the world would I want to do that?” Isak snorts.

“I don’t know. So we’re equal?”  

“You mean even.”

“Hm?”

“You mean so that we’re even, not equal,” Isak explains.

“Nope. I meant equal.”

It’s stupid and they’re high but the words are comforting in Isak’s ears.

_Equal. We’re equal._

Isak reaches out and brushes his thumb over Even’s eyelashes. He then laughs when he whines in pain.

“Ouch! Did you just poke me?”

“Sorry. I’m not as sweet as you,” Isak chuckles lightly then looks away.

“But you are. Sweet, I mean.”

“Shut up.”

“Your hand smells like dishwasher detergent,” Even says, throwing him a bit off guard.

“I washed my hands with detergent.”

“Don’t like soap?”

“Feels dumb to line up for the bathroom just to wash my hands with soap,” Isak shrugs and his heart pinches because his hand starts to burn again.

“Touch something you didn’t wanna touch?”

“Yeah. Something like that.”

They sit there for another joint and Isak wonders if it’s the weed that makes all of this so easy. Whatever this is. Isak hasn’t lied or made an extremely self-deprecating joke and they’ve been out here for a while.

“Still wanna run away from home?” Even asks and Isak takes a moment to remember when he gave up this piece of information.

“Don’t know,” Isak shrugs. “Can’t exactly stay at Julian’s now. Can I?”

“You have a lot of friends.”

“Right. I forgot that you _observe_ me,” Isak chuckles then lets himself be shoved lightly to the side by Even who’s smiling.

“Don’t mock me.”

“But it’s too easy!”

“In my defense, you _do_ have a lot of friends,” Even adds. “I didn’t even have to _observe_ you to notice that.”

“Yeah?” Isak raises one of his eyebrows. “What do you notice when you _observe_ me, then?”

“That you’re like me. Maybe.”

“I don’t go after my friends’ leftovers, Even. We’re not alike.”

_There it is. Shit._

Isak would punch himself if he could. He’s been doing so well. So incredibly well not putting himself down, not turning himself into the butt of a joke. He’s probably offended Even too right now by implying that he’s a bad friend. _Great. Perfect._

“You’re not leftovers, Isak.” Even says and it’s calm and composed yet angry. Isak doesn’t know what he’s most upset about. “Julian is fucking asshole. And what he did is because he’s an asshole, not because something’s wrong with you.”

“It was just a joke, Even.”

“It’s not a joke if neither of us laughs.”

_Well._

“I’m sorry,” Isak mumbles, looking down with his face flushed. He’s not sure what he’s apologizing for.

“It wasn’t your fault, Isak. I know it’s hard to believe it but it wasn’t.”

“Okay,” Isak isn’t really sure what to say so he settles for that and hopes that Even will take his passiveness and drop it.

“And for the record, I saw you first,” Even adds. “You just noticed Julian before me.”

_Okay._

“I take it that I can run away and live with you then,” Isak breathes and he’s nervous and he hopes it pacifies Even.

“Hope you’re chill with a bunk bed.”

.

Jonas finds him and Isak peels himself from Even’s side rather painfully.

“I’ll text you,” Even says, making Isak roll his eyes.

“You’d need my number for that.”

“I hope you named me something cool on your phone,” Even grins, ignoring him.

“I’d need your number for that.”

“Are you more of a ‘good morning text’ type of guy or a ‘goodnight text’ type of guy?”

“‘Every hour text’ type of guy,” Isak smiles, ignoring how Jonas is proper grinning beside him right now.

“That sounds like too much work,” Even grimaces.

“Good thing you don’t have my number then.”

.

Isak washes his hands a few more times when he gets home, this time with lavender scented soap. Isak hates lavender, so he figures that it wouldn’t hurt for him to associate it with a traumatic event. He knows all about olfactory memory and how aroma increases recollection. And he already stays away from lavender so it’s a rather wise decision. Isak marvels at his ability to even _science_ right now.

He puts on his pajamas, bundling up for some odd reason instead of sleeping in his briefs like he’s been doing lately. It’s odd how he can still feel both Erik’s crotch and Even’s eyelashes at his fingertips. He wonders which memory will stick. He wonders.

* * *

**Something cool**

**02:00**

Goodnight

**10:01**

Good morning

* * *

Isak smiles at the dumb texts when he wakes up. He’s still curled up around himself in bed, debating whether he should bother replying.

He doesn’t. But when he washes his hands in the bathroom, it’s with the lavender scented soap.

* * *

 

**Something cool**

**11:04**

Just had a late breakfast with my mom  
I’m about to go walk my dog

**12:05**

I just ran into a neighbor. We talked about the last Game of Thrones episode. I don’t think he noticed that i don’t actually watch it.

**13:02**

I had risotto for lunch. I did the cooking. My mother says it was decent but i’m not too happy with the result. I should have eased on the salt a bit. Not my best. The salad dressing was good though and the roasted potatoes came out alright. I should have opted for another vegetable though because rice and potatoes is kind of too much carbs. Not that i care about carbs. But it’s like having that dessert that’s just too chocolatey you know.

You’re so weird

(I can’t text you until 14:00)

Can’t remember the last time i had a vegetable

**14:00**

Vegetables are good for your body

Let me guess  
You’re gonna suggest eggplant  
Are you seriously gonna wait until 15:00 to text me back?

**15:00**

Eggplants are gross

You’re officially the most extra person i’ve ever met

I’m honored

You’re not waiting until 16:00 this time?

I want to make you smile, not irritate you

You sure do seem to care a lot about my smiling

You noticed :’)

You’re weird

What did you name me on your phone?

Something cool

What is it?

“Something cool”

You’re officially the most extra person i’ve ever met

:)

* * *

Isak smiles at his phone, realizing that the reason his heart is beating quite fast is because he’s actually been laughing. Alone in his room. And not at a meme.

Isak can’t remember the last time someone’s made him laugh through text.

He’s quite the mystery. Even Bech Næsheim.

Their friendship, or whatever this is, is rather strange. Isak isn’t sure if he understands it himself, but he decides not to pay it too much attention.

Even sends him memes throughout the day and Isak replies when he remembers to. They barely interact at school, Even tilting his chin when he sees him and Isak doing the same as they find their respective groups of friends.

It’s nice. Quite nice.

They run into each other in the street on May 17th, Constitution Day. Even is in a bunad and Isak in his jeans. Even looks embarrassed while Isak is endeared.

“You look good,” he says with a smile.

“My mom loves seeing me in this thing,” Even explains.

“You’re a lucky guy.”

Isak means it as banter, but after he says it, he realizes that he simply means it. His mother doesn’t even know what he’s up to today, getting drunk and following Jonas around.

Even’s face twists, like he’s realized that Isak is not judging him for the outfit.

“I actually love wearing this thing,” he admits. “Sorry. Don’t know why I blamed it on my mom. I freaked.”

_He’s cute,_ Isak thinks.

“You don’t look like someone who cares what people think,” he smiles, bringing his hand to his eyes as he squints at the sun.

“Not people,” Even smiles, finally. “Just you.”

_Oh._

“Me? Why?”

“You make me nervous,” Even says and his eyes sparkles as the words roll around his tongue.

“My sarcasm is getting to you?” Isak half jokes, half hopes for an answer that will sustain this feeling in his chest right now.

“No, your face is getting to me.”

_Oh._

Isak blushes, bites his lower lip, shuffles. He’s the nervous one now.

“Well. My face and I are going to excuse ourselves so that you can do your thing, then.”

Even laughs and Isak watches. _He’s beautiful. And kind. And I make him nervous._

“Isak, I really really love May 17th.”

“I can see that,” Isak laughs.

“I bet you look incredible in a bunad.”

“You bet.”

.

Isak walks away with the widest smile and he can feel Jonas’ stare as it burns through the side of his face.

“Since when do you like Even Bech Næsheim so much?” Jonas jokes.

“Shush.”

When he gets home, he digs out one of his father’s bunads because he can no longer fit in his own. He wears it, walks around the house, then settles in front of the mirror in his room.

He doesn’t look incredible. Not even close.

He’s about to take it off when his mother sees him in it. She shrieks, and Isak has been having a great day so far, so he walks out the door in the bunad before she can call him names.

* * *

**Something cool**

**18:09**

How drunk are you right now

As drunk as you need me to be

How about not drunk?

Good thing i stuck with water  
Why

Do you have some time for my face right now?

You get off making me nervous with your face?

Yes

Give me a time and a place

* * *

“Did I mention how much I love May 17th?” Even says beside him.

They’re sitting on the grass over a tiny little hill and Isak might be a bit tipsy judging from how he’s leaning against Even right now.

“Only a few hundred times.”

“I can’t believe you went and got changed for me,” Even laughs.

“Who said anything about you? Pfft.”

“That was kind of a weak response. Where’s your sarcasm, Valtersen?”

“Shush.”

A child kicks a ball in their direction and Even bursts into laughter when it hits Isak in the face. It’s almost overwhelming, the conflicting emotions in his chest. Sobering.

“How dare you laugh at me?” Isak growls. “Aren’t you supposed to take care of me?”

And _okay, no,_ Even is not supposed to take care of him. He’s not sure where that came from.

“Want me to fight the kid? I’ll fight him. I swear I’ll fight him,” Even says and Isak shoves him, laughing.

It’s so nice. Even is so nice.

“How are you so goofy without alcohol?” Isak asks, his index finger pointing at Even’s chest.

“You drink to be goofy?”

“I drink to not be in pain.”

_Fuck._

Isak brings his palm to cover his own mouth. He’s not even drunk. Even simply gets him to blurt everything out like he’s leaking.

“I wish I could do that,” Even says, barely flinching at Isak’s embarrassing confession.

“I’ve never seen you drink.”

“You _observe_ me, too?” Even gapes at him, teasing.

“Shut up,” Isak laughs, shoving him a bit.

“Does it bother you?”

“What?”

“That I don’t drink.”

“Of course not.”

They sit there for a moment, Isak pulling at his outfit around the shoulders. It’s a little big. Even probably knows it’s not his.

“Why don’t you drink?” Isak asks, figures Even would tell him, because Isak hasn’t evaded any of _his_ questions so far.

“Fucks with my meds,” Even replies, looking far ahead, way past the little child who hit him with the ball earlier.

“Your meds,” Isak repeats with a sinking feeling in his stomach. “What kind of meds? Are you physically ill?”

“Mentally,” Even replies immediately, still looking ahead. But his voice is a bit distant, like he’s regretting it already. “Bipolar.”

Isak notices that he’s no longer leaning against Even. He’s not sure when he stopped. He wonders if he’s hurt him.

“Is that not cool?” Even prods, his eyes now on the grass. He’s pulling at it and it looks like it’s to numb the feeling of something pulling at him.

“Hm?”

“My name on your phone. You have me as ‘something cool’ on your phone,” Even explains, nervous and fidgeting. “Are you gonna change that?”

“No. I’m not gonna change it.”

“How do I know for sure?” Even asks, finally turning his head to look at Isak. He smiles before he hears his reply.

“I guess you don’t.”

Isak changes it.

* * *

**Something sweet**

**23:17**

Goodnight

You don’t have to keep sending me these

I want to

Ok

I was very happy today :)

this day makes me happy

You really really like May 17th

I know

I’m surprised you’re still texting me to be honest

You finally realized how annoying you are?

I meant the bipolar stuff but that too i guess

We’re buds  
There’s no reason for me to stop talking to you because you’re bipolar

You know what

No Even i don’t know what

Let me finish typing ugh!

:p

If people were days  
You’d definitely be May 17th

I’m the signing of the Norwegian Constitution?  
Nice

No  
You make me happy :)

oh uh thanks

you looked incredible in that bunad

thank you :)

Goodnight

goodnight

* * *

It’s summer. No more classes, no more putting on a show in the school cafeteria. No more avoiding the hallways during certain times because he knows Julian’s time table by heart and is careful to avoid him at all times.

Isak is free. It’s summer.

He can stop ignoring Even at school now.

When he thinks about it, Isak is not really sure why he insists on ignoring him, on keeping it secret, whatever they have. Perhaps, he’s afraid of what people might say about him, clinging to a boy who’s friends with his ex, smiling for the first person who gives him the time of day. Perhaps people will assume he’s trying to get revenge on Julian by seducing his friend. He already has some sort of promiscuous reputation floating around after all.

But what probably scares him the most is Even himself. Because he’s not sure why he’s so kind to him and he’s not sure he wants to find out. Isak is smiling more and more around him, and he’s not sure he likes the idea of letting his guards down so soon. He doesn’t like it at all.

Isak starts asking more questions. He finds out that Even likes movies, though not horror movies like him. He’s actually two years older than Isak-- like Julian-- and he missed a year of school after a severe manic episode. He’s born in February and he wants to become a director. He lives with his mother and he has a dog he named Edvard.

Isak hasn’t had the courage to ask him about his dad just yet because Even seems to flinch whenever he’s close to doing so. Nothing alarming so far, Isak thinks.

.

And Even is patient and smart and funny. He never pushes him. Not even once.

Isak knows that Even wants more than _friendship,_ possibly. But he’s never tried to make a case for it. He steals glances and calls him May 17th through text, but he never pushes. He keeps his distance. He takes a step back when he senses that Isak is considering it, almost as if he knows how sore his heart is still. How hard it is to talk to anyone, really, about the damages done to his heart. Isak isn’t even sure how bad it is but he doesn't wish to find out quite yet. Not yet.

So he stalls and he stalls and he stalls.

“You think you’re gonna hook up with someone this summer?” Even asks when they meet up for kebab and Isak does his best not to choke around his food.

“Nope. I’m good with my porn subscriptions for now,” Isak replies.

“You pay for porn?!” Even gapes at him and they laugh and they laugh and they laugh.

It’s easy to make the harder conversations easy again with Even, because he lets it go when he feels like it might be hurting Isak. He lets it go.

But right now, sitting across from each other with Even in a pink snapback and an actual white tank top—tank top!— that reads ‘bipolar’ in black, Isak can’t help but think that perhaps he owes him something, a piece of him, maybe.

“Julian fucked me up a lot,” he blurts out before he can change his mind. He then shoves his kebab into his mouth because he wasn’t expecting to sound that pitiful. He hasn’t said it out loud before.

“I know,” Even says. And for the first time, Isak feels furious with him.

“No, you don’t know! You don’t know until someone steps all over you and your trust and fucks someone behind your back. You don’t know what cheating feels like! Don’t _‘I know’_ me!”

“I’m sorry.”

They sit there in silence while Isak struggles to regain his breath and his cool. Even doesn’t know. How could he possibly know.

“You know. When bad things happen to me, I always give up something to move on in a way, if that makes sense,” Even speaks slow and careful. “So after my manic episode, I stopped drinking alcohol. But it wasn’t very hard because I actually couldn’t stand the taste and the smell. Made me nauseous, you know.”

Isak blinks at him, because he’s not sure where this is going.

“After my dad left because my bipolar was getting overwhelming and he couldn’t handle it, I gave up Game of Thrones cause it reminds me of him. He used to love it so much. I just couldn’t watch it anymore,” Even continues. “But I didn’t give up Baz Luhrmann or hip hop or anything else. I only let go of one thing, you know. I don’t want people who leave me taking everything away from me.”

Isak watches him, his hands aching to touch him, finally _touch_ him.

_Your dad left, too? ‘You’re like me, maybe.’_

“So I guess my question is what’s the one thing you’re willing to give up after Julian so that you can start feeling better? Just one thing though.” Even asks, finally looking at Isak, his eyes blue and kind under the pink snapback. “What’s the ultimate thing that Julian ruined for you?”

Isak thinks about it. He really does. He knows he can tell Even to leave him alone and that he would but he goes through the exercise anyhow.

“Kissing,” Isak says. “I don’t think I ever want to kiss a boy ever again.”

Even believes it but Isak doesn't.

.

They’re in a pool and Isak is nervous because his friends have never seen him interact with Even after they’re struck up their strange friendship. He’s also nervous because Even has been even more distant lately, not in his presence exactly. He still texts and they still laugh and meet up and kick balls around in the field. He’s physically distant, however. He doesn’t hover. He doesn’t press. There’s an arm apart at all times. And somewhere along the line, it starts feeling like a loss. How Even won’t touch him.

But they’re in a pool and it’s electrifying how their bodies orbit around each other. It’s dizzying, almost, the urge to touch. They take turns drowning each other like twelve year olds and Isak realizes he’s never had this much fun in a pool.

Even offers to share his lunch when Isak realizes he forgot to bring his and that he only has enough money to buy ice cream. He accepts because there’s no use fighting with Even Bech Næsheim. They break into a towel fight and halfway through the day, Jonas and everyone else simply ignore them, too bored with their shenanigans and tired of waiting for them ‘to kiss’, according to Vilde.

“I won’t kiss you,” Isak says with a blush high up on his cheeks with his legs wrapped around Even’s waist in the pool. They’re floating.

“I don’t expect you to,” Even says and his eyes are too blue. Isak can’t focus.

“But you want me to.”

“I don’t want you to do something that hurts you.”

Isak uses both arms and legs to push Even underwater. And when a hand curls around his ankle and pulls him under—as expected—he doesn’t resist it.

Isak knows he’s going to need to come up for air any second now. So he reaches over, cups Even’s face, and kisses him on the mouth before his lungs erupt.

They do anyways.

“You kissed me,” Even breathes hard and fast when they finally come up for air.

“I slipped.”

“On my mouth, underwater.”

“Yes,” Isak laughs.

Even looks distraught and disheveled and it was barely a peck.

“It was barely a peck,” Isak is still laughing.

“My point exactly,” Even sighs. “I didn’t even get to put my lips to good use. What a shame.”

“Are you listening to yourself?”

“Is this a once in a year type of event? What are the rules here? I need to be prepared for a next time, if there is one,” Even narrows his eyes.

“There won’t be no next time.”

“So like in an hour?” Even smiles and Isak feels something in his stomach.

“Shut up.”

But Even won’t leave him alone, as if that damn peck triggered something within him. He’s all smiles and his eyes are sparkling and he’s ridiculous. Isak can’t believe him.

“I won’t kiss you again,” Isak warns, but he’s laughing so he can’t be that convincing.

And Even pouts. He _pouts!_ With those lips. He pouts with both arms crossed over the edge of the pool and his head turned to the side facing Isak. They’re both floating in the water by the walls.  

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want me to kiss you,” Isak warns.

“I don’t. Absolutely not. Never,” Even scoffs and Isak hates him a bit.

It all happened in the blink of an eye really. Mahdi daring Magnus to jump, Magnus agreeing to it, Even looking at Isak like he placed the stars in the sky, Isak looking away and pretending he didn’t like the attention. It all happened in a blink.

Magnus runs towards the pool because he’s an idiot and slips before making it to the edge, his right foot landing hard and flat on Even’s head which was carefully placed on top of his folded arms.

Even yelps in pain and Isak screams even louder than him. Magnus’ foot all but stomped on Even’s head, causing him to sink his own teeth onto the inside of his lower lip and draw blood, lots and lots of it.

It’s chaos after that, with everyone trying to stop Even from bleeding all over the pool. People offer bandages and ice and towels and Isak wants to cry because Even looks in a tremendous amount of pain. _What the fuck is going on. Oh god._

“I’m okay. I’m okay, Isak. Don’t panic,” Even says and it’s muffled and he can’t really close his mouth and he’s still bleeding and Isak is going to _kill_ Magnus.  

.

“It’s not a big deal,” says the medical person at the pool. Isak isn’t even sure if they have medical training. He wonders how someone ended up as medical staff at a swimming pool. “You need to go to a pharmacy and get what I wrote down on that piece of paper. They should also look at your wound.”

“Okay,” Even tries.

They walk side by side in their drying shorts and Isak is mortified. He can see tears around Even’s eyes and it kills him to know he’s in pain because of him.

“You’re blaming yourself right now. Aren’t you?” Even asks.

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying!” Isak frowns.

“You never lie to me. I know what you sound like when you lie.”

“Fine!”

The nurse puts some sort of ointment on the tear in Even’s skin and Isak wonders if he should maybe hold his hand. Even digs his fingernails into his palm instead, wincing silently. The nurse tells him that he’s lucky it’s superficial, that he could have bit into his tongue. She then sends them off with drugs and smiles and makes Even promise to stay out of the water for a little while.

“You didn’t have to come with me,” Even says and it’s the most stupid thing Isak has ever heard.

“Shut up, Even!”

“You should be nice to me. I just hurt myself protecting you. It could have happened to you.4”

Isak would shove him if he wasn’t already in pain.

They stop at a grocery store and Isak buys him ice cream with the little money he has.

“Just put it over your bottom lip,” he says, still feigning annoyance.

“But it’s chocolate flavored,” Even pouts.

“Even! You just bust your lips open. You should probably avoid eating! Use your brain!”

They walk and Isak had no idea why he’s so wound up, so angry. It’s ridiculous really. When they get back to the pool, he makes Even sit down on one of the chairs and threatens Magnus until he buys him ice cream this time around, insisting that it’s a chocolate.

“You’re gonna let me eat chocolate ice cream?” Even smiles, making Isak roll his eyes.

“You’re such a child.”

Isak unwraps it for him and holds it by the stick on top of his busted lip. They wince. Both of them. Even probably from pain and Isak from imagining how much it must hurt.

“I’m sorry,” Isak mumbles, defeated, his knees bumping against Even’s as they both sit on their chairs.

“Don’t be,” Even says and it’s kind, like him. So kind. “I like it better when you destroy my hopes and dreams with your sarcasm.”

Isak leans in and kisses him on the mouth again, careful to only suck on his upper lip. Very, very careful. But Even has other ideas as his hands find Isak’s hair and waist, and pull him onto his lap just as he captures his bottom lip between his own.

It’s gentle. And it’s sweet. And it’s warm. And it’s a kiss. A kiss that hurts and a kiss that heals. Isak can taste Even’s blood in his mouth and he can taste Even—all of him—in his heart.

It’s magic.

Kissing boys who want to kiss him back. It’s magic.

“Fuck!” Isak blinks, shoving Even in the chest because:

  1. He just kissed him on his bruised mouth
  2. He just kissed him in public
  3. He just kissed him



“Are you okay?!” Isak asks in total panic, eyes wide, remorse settling in.

“Worth it,” Even smiles at him and Isak swears, he’s the sun.  

“You’re an idiot!”

“Still worth it.”

.

Isak goes home with a blush on his cheeks and his heart hammering in his chest. It’s been hours but there are still butterflies at the pit of his stomach. He can’t eat anything, can’t drink anything, can’t do anything.

He suspects it’s a fever at first. Then after a quick WebMD search indicates that he might be dying from a rare medical condition, he closes his laptop and tries to take a nap instead.

In vain.

_What is this._

_Oh god._

* * *

**Something sweet**

**21:18**

Get home okay?  
Miss u

* * *

 

Isak squirms in his bed and he hates it. Absolutely hates it.

_Am I falling for him? There’s no way I’m falling for him. I’m not falling for him!_

But then he stares at his name on his phone— _something sweet_ now instead of _something cool_ because of Even’s sweet tooth and love for chocolate—and he can’t help but melt a bit, blush a bit, feel hot all over a bit.

_No._

_Nope._

* * *

**Something sweet**

**21:20**

Miss you too..

is this a pity text because i hurt myself?

no i just miss you

i'm sorry you're hurting because of me

I wish it were me instead

i'm sorry

so sweet

you're so sweet you know that?

stop

<3333

* * *

 

_Fuck. I like him so much._

 

* * *

 

**Magnus**

**22:29**

Isak. i saw you making out with homeboy Even earlier  
That’s hella tight. I’m happy for you.  
i love you man and i’m just telling you what Vilde said  
but apparently Even cheated on his ex-gf last year at Bakka  
I know you hate this cheating stuff  
Just thought you should know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 16. wow if i get to 21 i will just? ha  
> it was so weird writing a few lines i actually said in real life. the pool scene is something that i actually lived through with someone. i was terrified. there was so much blood lol. i felt so guilty. 
> 
> i'm finishing part 2 but it's bittersweet for me because i really loved this person. obviously it didn't work out (racist family on their side. i couldn't take it) but material for fic YAY. 
> 
> please let me know if you liked this and would like Part 2 <33333 comments are sometimes the only way for a writer to know how they're doing. they mean a lot and provide so much validation and encouragement. so thank you so much for taking the time to write them. 
> 
> to the anon who leaves me discouraging words every time i post anything in the form of 'constructive criticism', please stop reading my work <3
> 
> ('hella tight' wink wink to my fellow lady bird watchers haha) (obv. Even did no such thing)


	2. something sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "When are you gonna kiss me?"  
> "Uh, is this a trick question?"
> 
> Even makes Isak soft, soft, soft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part 2/2 
> 
> hope you like it. definitely the sweetest Isak/Even i've ever written. perhaps. maybe.  
> warning: unwanted sexual advances, SA mention

**Magnus**

**22:29**

Isak! i saw you making out with homeboy Even earlier  
That’s hella tight. I’m happy for you.   
i love you man and i’m just telling you what Vilde said   
but apparently Even cheated on his ex-gf last year at Bakka   
I know you hate this cheating stuff   
Just thought you should know

* * *

Isak stares at the texts calmly, blinking every now and then. His ears are slightly ringing. His mouth feels slightly dry. And for a second, it feels like the world has tilted, like his body has lost its sense of balance.

_Oh._

Isak sits up in his bed and runs a hand through his damp hair. He had finally managed to stop grinning at his phone and take a real shower after the pool only to come back to _this._ He furrows his brows and reads Magnus’ words again.

Isak breathes. _It’s probably just a stupid rumor. Vilde’s full of shit half the time._

But something curls at the pit of his stomach and tugs, faintly at first, then not so much. It’s sharp now, and Isak almost winces as anxiousness settles in, right where it belongs, between his bones. And before he knows it, his mind is spiraling with urgent and panicked thoughts, questioning everything and nothing all at once.

_Last year. Bakka. Is that why he started at Nissen as a second year? Is that where he was last year? Could it be possible that it had something to do with his breakdown?_

People always spoke of Even’s preference for beautiful petite blondes, but Isak has never actually seen him with one. Was it perhaps his ex-girlfriend?

Isak groans, tugging at his own hair a bit. He’s never asked Even about that part of his life. It’s always been about Isak and his feelings. They’ve never gotten into relationship talk because Even was always tending to Isak’s careful wound, even when Isak didn’t. And now that he thinks about it, he’s always assumed that Even likes both girls and boys, the former solely based on what he’s heard about him and the latter based on how he looks at _him_.

_What do I really know about him?_

_‘I know, Isak. I know.’_ The words burn in Isak’s memory, vivid, unmistakable, bright and colorful in his mind. The words Even said to him when Isak broke down about being cheated on. _Oh._

The tugging gets worse. Only this time, it’s his heart that hurts.

_‘I know.’_ Isak had assumed that Even was referring to his pain as someone who’s lived it when he uttered those words _._ But it hadn’t occurred to him that perhaps Even was speaking of the pain as someone who has caused it.

_This is not fucking fair!_ Isak’s hands are in fists and he doesn’t really know what to do with this piece of information—or rather gossip. He doesn’t know, but his mind is caught between two torrents, two urges, both just as strong, just as consuming. Flight and fight.

Flight. Everything in him is urging him to run for the hills, to cut Even off, to call Jonas and go spend a week on his bedroom floor with his head strategically placed between empty pizza boxes and almost finished joints, to drown himself in the latest Netflix show and just forget about their short-lived friendship and their two chaste yet bruising kisses.

Isak has done it before and he can do it again.

_‘Isak, you’re being a bit too much,’_ he recalls Jonas saying the first time he’s done it.

_‘It’s called self-preservation, Jonas. It means using your brain.’_

But something in his heart, maybe, is urging him to _fight,_ to call Even or at least text to ask him about it. He hasn’t done that one before. He doesn’t have a template for that. But he still wants to do it because he feels like he owes him that, at least, for their—their _friendship._

Isak focuses on that feeling, on the tenderness he bears for Even sometimes when his eyes crinkle around the corners at one of Isak’s sarcastic jabs or when they, otherwise, turn to the floor while he declines a drink at a party, almost ashamed that he can’t drink. That tenderness. Isak hasn’t come up with a word for it quite yet but it’s always been warm and nice. Except that right now it aches.

His mind flashes to his favorite words, his favorite text. _‘You deserve better.’_

He remembers every single time Even has called Julian an ‘asshole’ and clings to the day he shamed him in the cafeteria for being horrible about bisexuality. _‘There are great bisexuals and pansexuals who would never hurt you like that!’_

Isak breathes through his nose and lies down on his bed, sprawled on his back. He brings one of his arms to his forehead and closes his eyes.

He’ll ask Even about it tomorrow.

* * *

**Something sweet**

**09:19**

Good morning ❤️

**10:19**

Still sleeping?

Miss you ❤️

**11:20**

I hope you’re not freaking out about what happened yesterday   
I thought about it a bit and i’m sorry that i didn’t respect your boundaries   
I tend to get ahead of myself sometimes   
You were trying to comfort me with that kiss and i took advantage of it   
I’m sorry and i hope you know i won’t hold it against you if you wish to forget about it   
You mean so much to me i wouldn’t want to lose you as a friend

hey  
How are you feeling?

:)  
A bit sore but I’m okay   
you?

Kinda tired

Sore from the swimming pool?

No. sore from reading all your texts  
You typed a lot of words

I thought you were ignoring me

i wasn’t

I tend to overthink

I just woke up

Glad one of us got some sleep

You couldn’t sleep?  
Was it the pain?   
Did you take the painkillers the pharmacist gave you?   
Or do they mess up your meds?   
I just realized we never told her about your meds

<3  
No Isak it wasn’t the pain that kept me up   
It was the butterflies :)

The butterflies?

Ever the romantic you  
I was thinking about you   
Had butterflies in my belly   
couldn’t sleep because of it   
Are you rolling your eyes right now by any chance?

How did you know?

:’)

You make me sound like such a bad influence

Yes you’re so bad for me and my sleep Valtersen

Is that why you hang out with me so much  
Cause i keep you up?   
And here i thought you liked me or something

I do

You hate sleeping that much?

I actually do  
Sleep is the cousin of death after all

Those are some dark thoughts you have there  
Do you keep a diary for all these emotions by any chance

Dick

:P

I miss you <3  
It makes no sense

That you miss me?  
Hurtful

I’m this close to coming to your house

You don’t know where i live

I asked Jonas

Of course you did

You were sweeter last night

Once in a year event

You said that yesterday about something else  
but i recall you doing it twice

I don’t know what you’re talking about

I’d remind you if you let me

You need permission to buy me chocolate ice cream?

No I need permission to kiss your mouth

Cute. don’t recall doing that though  
And speaking of mouths   
how’s yours

Missing yours

What happened to respecting my boundaries

I think you like having them pushed

What happened to me not liking to be told what to do

I’m not telling you what to do  
I’m simply making a case for our imminent union

Imminent union?  
This conversation is about to end

haha  
I would never actually push your boundaries btw   
Hope you know that

Says the guy who pulled me onto his lap

Says the guy who kissed me  
TWICE

Says the guy who wanted it  
BOTH TIMES

did YOU though?  
want it. I mean   
You don’t have to answer that

Wasn’t planning to

Brutal

Shit

What

I’m being a dick  
I’m sorry   
I hope you’re feeling better

Don’t worry  
You make me laugh <3   
I’m already feeling better

Tell me about your injury

It’s ugly  
My mother hates it

I don’t think she’d be a fan of our imminent union then

Yeah...  
Especially if she sees how mean you are to me

Mean? Excuse me?  
I’m asking about your health as we speak   
AND making you laugh

Out of guilt

Out of friendship

Same thing

Can you even talk in real life?  
I googled the injury and it says it hurts more afterwards

Let’s just say there’s a reason i’m not at your house telling you all of this in person

Does it hurt a lot?

I’ll be alright  
But thank you for asking <3

Let me know if there’s anything i can do to help  
I mean it

You know what would help

Yes Even i’m sure me sucking on your injured lip will help

Now I’m hurt AND hard  
Thanks for nothing :p

God you’re an idiot

Did you laugh?

Ugh I did

Then i’ll gladly be an idiot :D

I don’t know what to do with you

You could come over and figure it out here

And meet your mom?  
You’re going fast

My mom is not around today  
You could touch my eyelashes   
And i could touch yours

Is that code for jerking each other off?

Jesus   
Who’s going fast now?

I thought you were already hard

I don’t know what to do with you

I could come over and watch you figure it out  
but you better take care of your boner before i get there

For real?

Yeah i figured i’d stop by and check on you  
I still feel bad

Pity has never sounded so sweet  
I’m flattered

You should be

You can also meet Edvard

Dogs don’t like me very much

Trust me he will adore you

Why? Something wrong with him?

No wtf…  
He just adores the people i adore   
:)

Adore  
Strong word you’re using there

Not nearly strong enough trust me :)

…  
Be there soon

* * *

Isak is smiling by the end of their rather long conversation. He smiles until he remembers the other set of unanswered texts on his phone. _Right._

He gets up and puts on a black t-shirt, skinny jeans, and a red snapback. He greets his mother by lifting his hand like he would an acquaintance he doesn’t wish to speak to. And it’s okay because she doesn’t dwell on it either. Isak almost wishes she could get upset or offended. But she never does. Sometimes he feels like they’re cohabitating, like the motherly feelings she once had for him are no longer there. And it’s been this way ever since his father left. _Whatever._

.

Isak is greeted by a big dog with golden fur and a tendency to tackle and lick his guests. Even laughs—Isak notices that he winces, that it hurts to laugh, but Even insists on laughing— and tells him that Edvard is a golden retriever.

“Oh really? I would have guessed French bulldog,” Isak retorts with an eye roll before he can help himself and Even laughs again. It’s addictive, really.

“He did go through a phase of identifying as a French bulldog. How did you know?” Even offers casually.

“A _phase?_ Isn’t that one of the words that trigger you?” And _alright._ Isak is being insufferable today.

“Don’t be a dick,” Even says but he’s still smiling.

“Isn’t that why you keep me around?”

Isak isn’t too sure what he means by that and he guesses that Even has picked up on it, his tendency to blurt out things that sound self-deprecating and that often don’t make any sense.

“You and I both know that’s not why I keep you around, Isak,” Even answers and it’s final. It slaps a blush on Isak’s cheeks and marks the end of their aggressive banter by the door.

The apartment is nice. It has character. It carries life and memories. Isak can tell. There are too many coats on the hanger and too many shoes by the door. It’s got plenty of sunlight and there are too many things everywhere, unlike his house which is sterile and neutral at best. Every shelf seems like it’s on the verge of cracking in the middle and the walls are covered in art and decorations and patterns. Isak is almost overwhelmed by how eclectic Even’s apartment is.

His room isn’t any better. There are posters, drawings, books, and instruments all around. He has a bunk bed and his desk is filled with papers and notebooks and half-finished doodles. Isak is struggling to keep his eyes focused on one thing, feeling nervous and out of place.

An odd realization suddenly washes over him as he stops in front of a wall filled with drawings: he’s in Even’s room with Even, and no one else is around.

“You wanna go outside?” Even speaks behind him, sounding a little bit nervous as well, probably noticing Isak’s discomfort. “We can chill in front of my apartment building or find a park or something.”

“We can chill here,” Isak says, feeling himself relax at Even’s caring tone, Even who feels like he needs permission to kiss him, Even who has a piece of paper that reads _‘ALT ER LOVE’_ on his wall. “It’s not like you can make me _slip and fall_ into your bed or something,” Isak adds, finally turning around to face Even and gesture towards his bunk bed.

Even laughs and it’s so beautiful, it makes Isak’s heart swell.  

“It’s not like I was going to make a move with my dog in the room or something,” Even is still laughing.

“A bunk bed though, really?” Isak continues, grinning now. “Is it so your dog can’t see? Are you weird in bed?”

“Weird in bed? What does that even mean?” Even snorts.

“I don’t know,” Isak pauses then grimaces. “Shit, now I have weird images in my head.”

“Of me being weird in bed?” Even barks out a laugh at that.

“Weird in a bunk bed. Wow, how do I unsee?”

“Maybe by seeing what I’m really like in a bunk bed?”

Isak rolls his eyes at that but can’t keep his cheeks from heating up.

“Trust me, there’s no way you’re getting me up there,” he says.

“Who said anything about you?” Even teases then makes his way to a chair by the large window.

“You want me to watch you?”

“This just went from 0 to 100 so quick,” Even groans and he’s all smiles and so incredibly pretty. Isak would gladly keep saying the most obscene things to get to see him shine like this.

“So that’s why you have a bunk bed!” Isak nods as if he’s finally cracked a mystery. “Good ice breaker, I reckon.”

“No. My parents just never considered the possibility of me having a cute boy in my room.”

_Cute boy._

“Why? Were you an ugly child?” Isak retorts, then bites his tongue because this particular joke turned against him before.

“Isak! That’s messed up,” Even laughs, seemingly unbothered by the words.

“Now that I think about it, you probably weren’t,” Isak shrugs, then with a careful blush, he adds, “You clearly got a good deal on the genetic lottery.”

The comment is meant to make Even smile or laugh or maybe tease him about finally saying something nice. But it doesn’t happen. Even’s expression darkens as if Isak has hit a nerve or two.

“Clearly, it wasn’t that good enough of a deal,” Even says, but it’s faint, like it’s meant for himself.

Isak is about to ask the question when he realizes what a colossal idiot he is. Even is mentally ill. And although the exact cause of bipolar disorder is not known, researchers have somewhat proven that genetic factors contribute to it.

He wants to apologize, to say “you’re good enough”, and he opens his mouth to do just that, but Even’s expression suddenly shifts and his smile is back in place.

“How was that for some dark thoughts?” Even jokes then makes his way to his dog, Edvard, who’s sitting on a pillow by the desk, his energy having somewhat dwindled but still perking up when Even runs his hand over his head, his fur.

Isak watches and smiles. It’s a sweet sight. Just like him.

Isak shakes his head.

Even makes them cheese toasties and they settle on the floor with Edvard between their legs. They talk about some of the posters around Even’s room, and Isak finds himself sitting through a lecture about rap and its origins and its cultural and social significances.

Isak leans his weight on both hands, palms carefully placed on the floor behind his back. They’re drinking Fanta after Isak declined a beer—it didn’t feel right given that Even has given it up—and he watches Even speak about his favorite things in the world, Baz Luhrmann, Xavier Dolan, Romeo + Juliet, epic love stories, 90s rap, Seinfeld, memes, and memes, and memes. Halfway through their hangout, Isak forgets why he’s there in the first place, or maybe he just gets so good at ignoring it, that he fools himself in the process.

The thing is Even is funny and he’s smart, but he’s also overwhelmingly passionate. Isak doesn’t mean to, but he finds himself blushing at how Even pronounces some words, at how he moves his hands and looks into his eyes, his entire body radiating passion and fervor and intensity.

Even is not making any moves on him right now. He’s simply talking about what makes his heart race, yet Isak’s face gets hot because he’s almost rubbing off on him, too. His love for things is contagious, overwhelming, consuming.

Isak wonders if Even could ever talk about him like that one day. _To be loved like this. Is it possible?_

Isak shakes his head.

“But why horror movies?” Even asks him at one point. Edvard is on his lap and Even is petting him absently, running his long fingers through his golden fur.

“Why not?” Isak shrugs.

“I don’t know? Because they’re scary?” Even muses. “Is that why you like them? You like the jump scares?”

Isak watches him carefully. He thinks about it, because he hasn’t thought about it before. He can’t even recall when he started liking horror movies. He just knows that he does. That he enjoys getting immersed in an improbable scenario and rooting for a few stupid people to remain alive.

“If you pay attention enough, you can always predict the jump scares though,” Isak replies.

“So that’s what gets you off? Predicting the jump scares in horror movies?” Even says in a teasing tone. He’s smiling, too. “You like it when everyone screams in the cinema but you don’t?”

Isak rolls his eyes then takes a deep breath.

“I like knowing that something is supposed to scare me and that I don’t let it because I use my brain.”

Even hums, taking Isak’s words in. He takes another gulp from his Fanta which is probably warm right now, Isak’s being long finished.

“You like not letting fear control you,” he muses, mostly to himself, as if Isak has just said the most profound thing ever.

_I’m not letting fear control me._

Isak looks down. He can’t look Even in the eyes and he wonders if Even has noticed. He wonders if Even has noticed his fear, and if he has, if he’s attributed it to the fact that they’re in his bedroom for the first time or if he’s guessed that something else is on Isak’s mind.

“What’s wrong?” Even asks and it’s soft and careful like he’s scared.

_You really do observe me. Don’t you._

“Uh, what do you mean?” Isak stammers uncharacteristically. He’s nothing but confident and sharp-witted around Even, usually.

“You’re not you.”

The words hurt a bit. Isak wants to say _and who am I supposed to be?_ Or _what do you know about me?_ But he can’t. He won’t. He thinks about what to say.

“You’re not nearly as brutal and sarcastic,” Even jokes but it’s shaky, nervous, like he knows.

Isak looks away again, this time leaning forward to stroke Edvard as well.

“Isak?”

“I heard something,” Isak says, and it’s detached and distant. He keeps stroking Edvard.

“You heard something,” Even repeats, like he’s tasting the words on his tongue.

There’s an awkward silence. Isak isn’t sure what to say next. He doesn’t want to hurt him in case it’s not true. He doesn’t want Even thinking that he’s believed such rumors about him. But at the same time, he’s not sure he can handle it if it is true. He’s not sure he can remain detached and unaffected. It’s Even after all.

Isak can feel Edvard’s bones under his fingers. He’s soft and old and he looks like he’s been with Even through heaven and hell. He keeps brushing him and it’s almost frantic now. He’s so nervous, his heart hurts.

Suddenly, Even says it and Isak’s fingers stop moving on their own.

“You know about Bakka,” Even says and it’s the saddest he’s ever heard him. It’s absurd but Isak can’t tell what’s hurting him the most, Even’s voice or Even’s words.

Isak nods, still not looking at him. His fingers resume the stroking and Even is silent and tense in front of him.

The silence is agonizing. Suffocating.

“You don’t trust me anymore,” Even says and it’s heartbreaking. Isak can’t wrap his head around it. They’ve barely kissed.

“So it’s true?” Isak says and it’s not detached and unaffected anymore.

Isak finally looks up and Even looks heartbroken.

“I never meant to hurt her, Isak,” Even says and it’s small and sad, like he’s pleading. “I know it doesn’t mean shit. But please believe me.”

Isak looks down again. He can’t be here anymore. He can’t do this.

“You don’t trust me anymore. Do you?” Even asks again and Isak can feel the lump in his throat, the finality in the words. It’s not a question. It’s a plea.

“I don’t think I do, Even,” Isak admits as he turns away from him to stand up.

_Great._

Edvard gets up on his feet, too, mourning the loss of Isak’s fingers.

“When did you find out?” Even asks behind him, still on the floor.

“Does it matter?”

“It doesn’t.”

“Last night,” Isak answers before reaching for his snapback from where he left it on his desk.

“And you still came here.”

“I wanted to ask you,” Isak admits. “You’re my friend. I wanted to ask you.”

“Thank you,” Even says and it’s the last thing Isak expects him to say.

.

Even walks him outside and it’s grim and unfair. Isak wishes he didn’t care but he does, and it hurts. They’re both looking down as they make their way out, even Edvard is limping as he goes down the stairs with them. They’re all hurting. It’s quite the painting.

Isak smiles when they reach the street and he knows he looks sad, but he still smiles. He has to look unbothered and unaffected. Even, on the other hand, doesn’t make an effort to conceal how he feels, for he looks devastated and upset. Isak tries to imagine being judged for something he’s done a year ago and that he’s probably already paid for. It’s unfair. All of it.

“I’m sorry for disappointing you,” Even says and Isak’s heart pinches.

“I’m sorry I care.”

“I’ll see you around, then,” Even says, but it’s not bitter. It’s just sad.

.

Isak thinks about it a lot, about them parting outside Even’s apartment building on a hot day in June right before his birthday. He thinks about it when he gets home and sits down on the kitchen table and feels empty. He thinks about it when he goes to Jonas’ later in the evening and smokes weed until he forgets his name. He thinks about it when Magnus shows up and asks him why he never replied to his texts. He thinks about it all the time, their _goodbye._

He thinks about how overwhelming the urge to kiss Even was. About how in that moment, it didn’t matter that Even was exactly like Julian and that he had hurt someone just like Julian had hurt him. All Isak could think about was leaning in and kissing him like he meant it. Like a parting gift.

But Isak never leaned in and Even doesn't bother him the following days. And if he watches _Romeo + Juliet_ on the third day and cries in the last half hour, then nobody has to know.

.

It’s Isak’s birthday and Eva volunteers to host it even though he’s insisted that he doesn’t want a party. He plays along, however, because somewhere along the line, Even’s absence has become impairing, overwhelming, a loss he’s constantly aware of, the only thing he can think about late at night.

_‘A little party never hurt nobody, right?’_

_Right._

It’s almost 18:00 when Eva calls him, borderline hysterical.

“What’s wrong?”

“Isak, I fucked up,” she says through the phone.

“What?”

“I invited Even to your party. I didn’t know you weren’t talking anymore. Vilde just told me that you told Magnus you weren’t friends anymore cause he turned out to be a dick.”

Isak sits on his bed and frowns.

“That’s not true. We’re still friends,” he blurts out, fists slightly clenched. He doesn’t know why, but he doesn’t like knowing that other people think that Even is _a dick._ “He’s not a dick.”

“Fucking Vilde!” Eva mutters. “I sound like an idiot now. Sorry Isak.”

“It’s fine.”

“So it’s cool if he shows up? I actually sent him a text to apologize and ask him not to come. But I don’t know if he’ll see it before the party.”

“You did what?!”

* * *

**Something sweet**

18:49

Hi Even  
I don’t know what Eva told you but please ignore it   
You’re welcome to my birthday party tonight   
You’re always invited to like stuff related to me   
That sounded weird   
But anyways   
You don’t have to come but if you want to you can

* * *

Isak doesn’t mean to but he keeps looking at the door, keeps watching for blond hair in a perfect quiff, for broad shoulders attached to a tall frame, for blue eyes attached to a kind soul. Isak doesn’t mean to but his own eyes find themselves glued to the door, and it’s so bad that Jonas comment on it.

“Is he coming tonight?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” Isak shrugs then takes a sip from his beer.

He’s not even sure if he wants Even to show up.

.

Even shows up.

He walks in a little after 23:00 and Isak’s breath catches in his throat. He’s overwhelmed and he’s not sure why exactly. He can feel Magnus and Vilde judging him but he’s not sure he cares. The alcohol in his blood helps, too.

“You came,” Isak says as soon as they’re face to face and he’s smiling. He can’t help it.

“It’s your birthday,” Even smiles right back.

They walk to the backyard and sit on the grass and Isak feels rude for not entertaining his guests, but he can’t bring himself to dwell on it.

Even is here. With him.

“How does it feel to be seventeen?” Even asks, his long legs stretched before him on the grass.

“As miserable as being sixteen,” Isak shrugs.

“Wow, good thing it’s your birthday. I hope someone had the brilliant idea of getting you a diary to log all these angsty dark thoughts.”

“Shut up,” Isak smiles, shoving him a little. They’re sitting close. Their shoulders are almost touching.

“Don’t like celebrating your birthday?”

“I don’t,” Isak confirms. “Not my favorite day of the year.”

“June 21st,” Even hums. “I’ll add it to the list of days I don’t like.”

“You don’t like it because _I_ don’t like it? Can you be any more original?” Isak teases.

“No. I don’t like it because it’s the day we go from being three years apart to two years. It’s weird.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I hope you know that the length of time between our births remains constant, Bech Næsheim.”

Even laughs and it’s beautiful, even more beautiful than the starry sky above them.

“I must admit that I liked you better when you were three years younger than me.”

“I must admit that I liked you better when I thought you-” Isak stops himself right before he can say something cruel, something that might disturb their rather peaceful banter.

But it’s too late. Even closes his eyes and Isak wishes he could travel back in time.

“I’m sorry,” Isak mumbles and he feels pathetic because he’s not sure what he’s sorry for. For caring? For being so wounded by something Even did a year or so ago?

“It was just a kiss,” Even says and Isak blinks once, twice, three times.

“It was two kisses,” he blurts out before he can think.

Even smiles then brings a hand to Isak’s cheek, thumbing it gently as he angles his entire body towards him.

“I wasn’t talking about us,” he whispers and Isak blushes, because of course. “It wasn’t just a kiss to me. Never.”

“Uh, okay,” Isak breathes, looking away.

“I meant last year. At Bakka.”

Isak shuts his eyes instinctively like Even’s just made the loudest and most uncomfortable sound. Isak doesn’t want to hear, isn’t sure he can still fawn over him if he knows all the details of his infidelity. And he knows it’s pathetic, but he likes liking Even. Liking Even has been the best thing that’s happened to him lately. Of course he likes liking Even. And he wishes to keep liking Even. But he’s not sure he can if he hears this.

“I was in love with my best friend last year. His name is Mikael,” Even continues, his voice monotone and controlled like he’s rehearsed this.

“Even, you don’t have to-”

“I was so confused when I realized why I couldn’t breathe around him anymore. And it took me a while to figure out that I loved him differently, that I wanted to kiss him and touch him,” Even pauses and looks up at the sky while Isak continues to look down. They must look quite interesting sitting like this on the grass. “I didn’t kiss him or touch him because I had a girlfriend and we’d been together since we were fourteen.”

“Was she blonde?” Isak blurts out then brings his hand to cover his mouth. Even smiles, however. So there’s that.

“She still is,” Even replies. “Blonde, I mean.”

Isak nods and feels his heart pounding in his chest. It’s almost painful to breathe.

“I tried telling her about my feelings but she thought I was being _crazy, manic._ And eventually, she convinced me that I was and that we should stay together,” Even continues. “For the longest time, I was convinced that my feelings for Mikael were just symptoms of my illness, that I was going crazy. I hated myself a lot.”

Isak feels his heart pinch again. He’s all too familiar with the self-hatred that comes with wanting a boy and being told that it’s wrong.

“I went off the rails and kissed him while manic,” Even breathes out and it’s sharp like it hurts him to utter the words. “I lost two people that day. Three if we’re counting me. Seven if we’re counting the rest of my friend group. Eight if we’re counting my dad walking out before I woke up in the hospital.”

Isak doesn’t know when he’s reached for Even’s hand, but he’s holding it now, in his own. He can feel the loneliness in his words. He can feel the hurt. He can almost feel the lump in Even’s throat forming in his own.

“Sonja tried to stay together because she’s a beautiful soul like that. But I couldn’t. Because even though she was convinced my feelings weren’t real, I knew that they were.”

“Only you can feel what you feel,” Isak says and Even squeezes his fingers right back.

“It was just a kiss,” Even repeats, but he’s looking away this time. “I didn’t mean to hurt her. People at Bakka turned it into this crazy story about me cheating on her with some guy while I was manic. And I didn’t care to address the rumors because I didn’t want any of my shit to affect Mikael.”

“Why didn’t you tell me at your place?”

“Believe me or not but this is my first time talking about this out loud,” Even says and he’s looking at him now. His eyes are blue and kind and Isak is lost and wounded. “It was just a kiss. I promise you.”

“It wasn’t just a kiss,” Isak says and he knows it’s the right thing to say. “You loved him.”

They sit like that for a while, holding hands and breathing deep and slow. Isak feels somewhat closer to Even, like he’s let him see him naked for the first time. His cheeks heat up with the thought.

“Wanna smoke?” Isak asks because he remembers the joint in his back-pocket.

They smoke until breathing gets easier, until Isak’s heart doesn’t pinch anymore. He’s not sure if their conversation has changed anything between them. All he knows is that another dimension got added to Even’s character in his mind. There’s depth and sorrow and memories and pain that Isak can’t even begin to wrap his head around. He can feel it. He can feel all of it.

“How was that for some dark thoughts?” Even smiles eventually when they’re on their backs.

“I hope someone got me two diaries. That way I can give you one.”

“How generous of you.”

“I mean what do you expect me to do with two diaries?” Isak retorts.

They laugh. They talk about Edvard and Isak asks about the limping. ‘He’s old,’ Even says and Isak frowns at that. He doesn’t know why but it makes him sad.

“He’s ten years old,” Even explains. “The oldest a golden retriever can live is 12 years.”

“I’m chill with dark thoughts, but this is too much for me,” Isak says and it makes Even laugh.

“I’ve had him since I was nine. He’s been with me through it all. He’s my best friend.”

“So you cheated on your girlfriend with your dog?”

Even shoves him and Isak laughs. “Too soon?”

“What’s wrong with you?!” Even groans but he’s laughing, too.

“I don’t know. What’s wrong with me?” Isak replies and it’s sad.

_What the hell is wrong with me._

They smoke some more with the party dimming in the background. It’s a beautiful night and it’s almost midnight.  

“It’s not your birthday anymore,” Even says when his watch reads 00:01. “Rejoice!”

“Now that I think about it, I’m a bit sad.”

“Hm?”

“Days are gonna get shorter from now on,” Isak explains, then when Even gives him a puzzled expression, he adds, “Summer solstice.”

“Nerd.”

“Now that I think about it, if people were days, you would definitely be June 21st,” Isak breathes, looking up at the sky again and crossing one arm behind his head.

“Wow damn!” Even chokes out a laugh.

“What?” Isak smiles.

“I’m your least favorite day in the year? Wow. You dislike me that much?”

“Nope,” Isak closes his eyes, still smiling.

“I’m the longest and most exhausting day of the year?”

“Try again.”

“I’m the day your highness graced the Earth with his birth?”

“No.”

“Why am I June 21st?” Even eventually asks, surrendering, and Isak realizes he’s left the grass and is leaning on his elbow, facing him.

“It’s the day the sun shines the longest.”

Isak opens his eyes just in time for Even’s to widen and for a blush to spread across his cheeks, and it’s so heartwarming that Isak wishes he was nicer to Even more often. He looks like he’s bursting with joy, barely containing himself.

“In the Northern Hemisphere,” Even says and it’s nervous and shaky like he’s testing Isak. “For the rest of the world, it’s in December.”

“I live in the Northern Hemisphere,” Isak says and he’s feeling brave.

“I’m your Summer Solstice.”

“I’m your May 17th.”

They smile at each other and it sets Isak’s heart on fire.

“I must tell you that my heart is fluttering right now,” Even says.

“Guess you won’t be sleeping much tonight then.”

“Uh, w-what?” Even’s nervous tone implies that his mind traveled farther than Isak intended for it to.

“Ugh, I’m referring to the butterflies. You perv!”

“Right. The butterflies. So thoughtful of you.”

“Yeah I’m feeling generous. It’s my birthday after all,” Isak shrugs.

“You’re supposed to receive, not give on your birthday.”

“Is that some analogy for gay sex positions? Are you currently making a case for our imminent union?”

“Isak!” Even snorts.

“What?”   

“And here I was nervous about finding you the right gift when it’s the other way around for you.”

“You got me the right gift?” Isak perks up.

Even fishes for something inside his pocket. He pulls out a small box and puts it between Isak’s hands.

“What is it?”

“It’s my dick in a box.”

“I knew you had a small dick. Knew it!” Isak laughs.

“Ugh! Just open it when I’m gone.”

“Why not now?”

“Cause I’m nervous.”

“My face making you nervous again?” Isak teases but his heart is racing.

“Your whole existence is making me nervous.”

“If I get a diary I’ll give it to you. I don’t even need to get two.”

“Shut up.”

They banter some more, with Isak holding onto the small box with both hands, like it’s precious. And it is. Even is about to say something when a familiar voice sends chills down his spine.

“Isak?”

_Julian._

Isak doesn’t mean to but he lets go of the box as his head snaps to meet his gaze. It’s him. Julian. He’s here at his birthday party.

_The fucking nerve._

But the thing with Julian is that Isak has never found it in him to confront him, to be angry and bitter with him, to direct any of his sarcastic jabs at him. I

In fact, Isak hasn’t spoken to him since before the breakup. He just ran for the hills, not even giving him a chance to explain or make amends. Isak didn’t want to hear any of it and Julian has never cornered him like this before. So it was perfect.  

“Can I talk to you?” Julian asks and Isak wishes his jaded and witty self could come in to play right now. But it’s like his brain melts when it’s him. “Hey Even.”

Isak remembers Even and he feels pathetic and terrible.

“Hey Julian,” Even greets him back, now getting into his feet.

Isak watches them awkwardly bump fists and he wishes he could catch fire.

“Isak, can we talk?” Julian repeats.

Even watches him and when Isak nods, it’s with his head turned away. Even excuses himself.

.

“Happy birthday,” Julian says and it’s nervous.

“Why are you here?”

“You love celebrating your birthday.”

“Not anymore. I don’t.”

“Okay.”

Isak is thinking about Even. He’s clutching his gift, the little box Even picked so carefully, and he curses himself for agreeing to this.

“You never let me explain,” Julian breathes like he’s cutting to the chase.

“What is there to explain?”

“You never heard me out at all. You dropped me in minutes.”

“Seconds,” Isak blurts out and revels in the bitterness in his voice.

“You’re being cruel.”

“Fuck you,” Isak barks and it hurts but it feels so good. “You cheat on me and I’m the one that’s cruel?! You turn me into a fucking joke at school and I’m the one that’s cruel?! God, fuck you! Just get out of my house!”

“It’s Eva’s house.”

“Get the fuck out!”

Isak is still reeling when the party ends, still reeling when he can’t spot Even inside, still reeling when he has four more drinks then throws up on his way home.

* * *

**Something sweet**

**01:02**

Everything go okay?

You planned this with Julian?

Of course not

Then why did you leave me there with him?

He said he wanted to talk to you many times  
To give both of you closure   
I thought maybe you’d want that too

Fuck you Even

* * *

Isak opens the small box on the second day. It’s a ring, a simple silver ring with one band. Isak stores it in his top drawer and tries not to think about it too much.

He can feel his heart getting heavier in his chest. He’s angry but he’s not sure who he’s angry at. He’s not sure if Even deserved the ‘fuck you’. He’s not sure why he’s so worked up when he clearly indicated that he wanted to stay.

Isak is not sure but he gets meaner. And his jokes don’t make people laugh as much as they make them wince. He’s being a ‘dick’ according to Jonas and he’s being cruel according to Eva, but he doesn’t care. It’s his only way of letting all of it out.

They’re at a party that he didn’t want to go to but ended up accepting because he no longer wanted to feel his mother’s disapproval seeping through the walls. The music is half decent and so is the beer. Isak decides that it’s a half decent night. He bops his head along to random songs and tries to entertain a small crowd in the kitchen.

Julian and Eili make their entrance and it takes everything in his body to remain unphased. He feels like he’s about to burst from the inside out. His skin is crawling. He can’t bear it anymore. _Cruel?_ How was he cruel when he was the one at the receiving end of this?

He downs two more drinks and he’s laughing with Magnus at some girl’s eyebrows when he feels it.

A hand.

An intrusive hand. It grabs his ass under the table and makes his eyes go wide. He can’t believe it. He’s about to scream because this isn’t a regular Magnus ass grab. No. This is someone trying to make him feel like the scum of the earth, someone trying to degrade him, to make him feel like soil.

Isak turns around and is face to face with scum of the earth Erik. His hold is strong, his fingers parted and confident on his body, like he knows Isak won’t cause a scene in the middle of a party in front of his friends, like he knows Isak is too proud to bring any attention to himself and indicate that he’s currently being sexually groped in public, like Isak is nothing.

He remains frozen in place, hoping that some force in the universe might intervene and end his suffering. But it doesn’t. Erik smirks and slides his index finger between his cheeks until Isak yelps, making Magnus turn around and laugh at ‘the weird sound’.

“I knew you like getting fingered like a slut,” Erik whispers in his ear. He then takes his hand back and grins, triumphant, like he’s gotten his revenge, like he’s finally made Isak pay for his words at that other party. And Isak can’t believe it, this, what’s currently happening to him.

.

Isak finds him outside. His vision is blurry, his hands in fists. He’s blinded by rage. He’s going to hit him. He’s going to kill him. He’s not going to use his words. Fuck words. Isak is going to destroy him. Isak is going to end him.

Isak shoves him in the back, causing him to lose his balance and nearly fall on his face. Erik turns around like he can’t believe Isak would actually start a fight over this. But Isak would and he does. He’s so angry, he can’t see.

“You fucking piece of shit. I’m gonna  fucking kill you!” he shouts and it’s strained and hurt and he can’t recognize his own voice.

Erik looks scared, his eyes wide. And it takes Isak a second to realize that he’s not scared of his  fists but of his words. There are people around them and Erik is not known to touch boys or hit on them.

Isak’s vision shifts into focus. He won’t use his fists. He will use his words.

“Not so confident now are we?” Isak bites and it’s full of rage. “What happened? Scared for everyone to find out you like sucking cock?”

He sees it then, Erik’s face crumbling like his word is about to end, and he revels in it.

“Is daddy gonna disown you for taking it up the ass?” he continues. A hand reaches for his elbow from behind but he shoves it away.

“Isak-” he hears behind him, and it’s soft.

It’s Even. But he doesn’t care. He steps into Erik’s space again.

“Now that I think about it, you’re always walking around with black eyes,” Isak mutters. “Does your dad beat you up or something? Is that why you’re so fucking scared and turn into some fucking dog when he picks you up at school? Does your dad beat the shit out of you? Is that why you’re a fucking psycho who enjoys making other people feel like shit? Because it gives you some fucked up sense of control?! Because you can’t fight back against daddy?!”

“Isak-” Even tries again.

“Or is it because you’re scared he’ll walk out on you too? Is that why you let him beat you? I heard your mom fucking left you. How pathetic do you have to be for your own mother to leave-”

“That’s enough!” Even’s voice is hard this time around. He wraps both arms around Isak’s chest from behind and pulls him backwards. “Stop this!”

“Let go of me, Even!” Isak thrashes around like a child. He wants to see Erik cry. He wants to see him suffer. He wants to make sure he never touches anyone ever again.  

“Isak, this is not you!” Even says into the back of his neck and Isak sees red.

“Let go of me!” he tries again, but Even’s arms are strong around him and he’s dragging him away with strength Isak finds surreal, or perhaps his own knees are giving out. Who knows.

Isak is still screaming in Even’s arms when they reach the street. He’s still seeing red. He’s still hyperventilating.

Even turns him around, both hands flying to Isak’s face with large parted fingers. He’s holding his entire face in his hands, like he’s trying to anchor him.

“Isak, breathe! Breathe with me! Calm down!” Even tries and his eyes are wide and Isak can’t breathe.

“Let go of me!”

“This is not you!”

“You don’t even know me!”

“Yes I do! And you’re not cruel! This is not you!” Even all but shouts in his face, too.

The world tilts and Isak stops fighting, stops screaming. He just stops.

“The Isak I know would never out someone. He would never use such personal things about  someone to get them to break. He would never!”

Isak breaks because he is Isak and because Even is Even. Even who thinks the best of him and who doesn’t know that Isak isn’t pure, isn’t kind, isn’t sweet. It’s Even.

Isak breaks and tears start streaming down his face like he’s on fire somewhere deep down. And he hates feeling so weak. He hates it. He hates it so much.

Even wipes his tears with his thumbs and kisses his forehead and Isak is sobbing and he can’t stop.

“What happened? Isak, what happened? You can tell me!”

“He touched me, Even! He always touches me! He touches me like I’m nothing. Like I’m dirt. He  makes me feel so disgusting and ugly and worthless!”

“Wha-”

“I hate him so much! He touches me! He takes away all my firsts. I’ve never even touched a guy  but he calls me a slut and all these names! And I’ve never done anything with anyone but he touches me. He makes me feel-”

Even hugs him and it’s so strong and overwhelming that Isak has to focus on his bones getting crushed. And he knows Even is doing it on purpose, hugging him until it hurts to anchor him, to make him focus on another type of pain. He knows.

Isak breathes.

.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Even says and he sounds so serious that it makes Isak snort.

They’re sitting down on the pavement and they’ve just shared a cigarette. Isak doesn’t smoke tobacco but tonight is a night of firsts.

“You can kill him after I apologize for outing him and using his family stuff against him,” Isak says.

“You don’t owe him shit.”

“It’s for me. Not for him.”

“Okay then hurry up and do your thing cause I need to kill him.”

They sit there on the sidewalk. Even smokes and Isak counts up to a hundred in his head. Even said it helps with breathing and clearing one’s mind. It does.

“How did you become friends with Julian?” Isak asks.

“He helped me come to terms with my pansexuality,” Even answers immediately.

“Oh.”

“It wasn’t smooth sailing for me. It was kinda rocky.”

“Rocky how?” Isak asks.

“I tried to kill myself.”

Isak holds his breath and chokes on his own tongue a little bit. He didn’t expect this when he left his home earlier that night.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his hands flying to cup Even’s.

“I was depressed and confused. I thought I was going to hell for liking boys and I had managed to lose all my friends and flip a shit at Bakka while manic. I tried to end it. Didn’t work. Only drove my dad away, too.”

Isak is crying again. Only this time, Even doesn’t brush his tears away. Probably because he’s crying, too.

“Julian helped me accept myself. We met through a hipster art showing. He was the first bisexual guy I ever met. And he gave me courage to like myself,” Even breathes. “That’s why I’m friends with Julian.”

* * *

**Something sweet**

01:19

Hi  
I’m sorry for oversharing earlier   
I realize you’re probably freaking out   
And i understand   
I guess i hoped i’d share all my secrets with you a month into our imminent union   
But perhaps it’s better this way   
Wouldn’t want you to feel tricked   
Still, it would mean a lot to me if you could keep my secrets   
It’s okay if you can’t and feel burdened by how heavy they are   
But it would mean a lot to me

Even, of course i’m not telling anyone  
Of course i’m keeping your secrets   
And i’m not freaking out   
I’m so happy you trust me this much   
You mean so much to me   
I don’t think i’ve told you before   
But you do

❤️

* * *

News catch on fast. Vilde assures Isak that Erik is not victim of domestic abuse and her sources confirm that his mother loves him very much and sees him every weekend. It helps dim his guilt but he still sends a facebook text to apologize for outing him in the middle of the party. He follows it with ‘Go fuck yourself’ and ‘Touch me or anyone again and I’ll rip you a new one’ just in case.

Jonas watches him out the corner of his eye and Isak is more careful. He weighs his words. He tries.

He meets up with the boys at a park to play football and he’s sweaty and exhausted after two games. But it’s okay because Even is sitting on a bench, wearing black sunglasses and reading a book about existentialism.

Isak sits down next to him and takes off his shoes to rub his soles.

“You looked good out there,” Even says and it’s sweet.

“I look good everywhere.”

“True.”

Even puts his book down and angles himself towards Isak. Then without warning, he grabs Isak’s foot and starts massaging it.

“What are you doing?” Isak blinks.

“Satisfying my foot fetish. What does it look like I’m doing?” Even laughs.

“Stop it. I haven’t even washed my feet!” Isak tries, embarrassed.

“I can wash my hands later.”

It’s soothing, Isak decides. Even is good at this, very very good.

“I do this for my mom when she comes back from work,” Even explains. “She wears heels all day so her feet always hurt.”

Isak blushes and looks away.

“You’re blushing.”

“I’m not.”

Even laughs then kisses the top of his foot—actually kisses it. Isak can’t believe him.

“You kiss your mom’s feet, too?”

“No,” Even smiles, and his eyes crinkle by the corners.

“You’re so gross.”

“And I adore you.”

Isak can’t think of anything witty to say. He just falters in his seat. His heart is fluttering, soaring, melting, bursting inside his chest.

.

“Are you two boyfriends now?” Jonas asks on the way home.

“No! What the hell?!” Isak scoffs.

“He kissed your foot.”

“It’s an analogy for kissing me on the mouth.”

“What are you even talking about?!” Jonas grimaces.

“He’s weird like that.”

“Isak, he may be weird for kissing your foot but he’s not weird for liking you.”

Isak wishes he could tell Jonas how much he loves him sometimes.

“Why won’t you let him in?”

“I don’t know,” Isak admits.

_What if he leaves me. What if he gets sick of me and leaves me._

.

“My dad cheated on my mom,” Isak confesses when they’re at Even’s place one day. Edvard is curled over Isak’s legs on the couch and Even is drawing both of them.

“Oh.”

“My mom is mentally ill and she wasn’t seeing a doctor, so it was a shit show most of the time. I  guess my dad had to satisfy his sexual urges somewhere else,” Isak shrugs, shocked by how easy the words flow out the second time around.

“Isak-”

“I was nine or ten once and my mom was with one of her sisters. They were taking care of her. And my dad had this woman over to our house. He said she was a friend but I heard the kissing noises from the bedroom. And I remember them so distinctly,” Isak continues, closing his eyes. “He’s so stupid he thought I wouldn’t understand because I was a child. But I did and it fucked me up.”

Edvard curls into him like he feels his anguish. Isak loves this damn dog.

“I told Julian all of this and he still fucked me over.”

“That’s why you didn’t hear him out,” Even says but it’s not a question.

“I sat through enough arguments between my parents. I saw what ‘hearing him out’ did to my mother. Fuck that. Fuck him.”

“But maybe-”

“Remember when you asked me what Julian ruined for me” Isak interrupts. “It’s not kissing. I lied. It’s trust. It’s the possibility of ever trusting someone wholeheartedly. That’s what Julian ruined for me.”

Even nods and Isak knows he’s hurting him. But he can’t help it.

.

Edvard is put to sleep on a warm Sunday morning.

Even texts Isak two words: “Need you” and Isak picks up the phone and calls right away. Edvard is in too much pain. They need to put him to sleep. They need to say their goodbyes.

Isak finds Edvard on the table at the veterinarian and he looks frail and old and tired. Even’s mother is crying in the corner but Even isn’t. Even is smiling. He’s smiling at Edvard and running his hand through his fur, gently and consistently.

Even is smiling and praising him. “Good boy. You’re doing so great. It’s gonna be okay. You’re my best friend. Everything is gonna be great. It’s okay.”

Isak pauses in front of Edvard, his hands shaking. He’s asking Even for permission to touch him. And Even nods.

“Edvard would like that. Thank you, Isak,” his voice cracks at the _thank you._ And just like that,  he starts crying.

It’s heartbreaking. All of it. Isak runs his hands through Edvard’s fur alongside Even’s while the veterinarian injects him with the euthanasia medication. He’s careful to avoid Even’s hands, but then he realizes that he shouldn’t, that Even’s fingers are shaking. Isak hold Even’s hand.

“It’s gonna be okay, buddy. Everything is gonna be just fine. You’re doing so well, Edvard! You’re so amazing!”

Even’s crying turns into sobbing as Edvard’s thrashing dwindles. And Isak doesn’t realize he’s sobbing too until he feels Edvard go still under his fingers.

For a moment, the world is too quiet. Isak can hear Even’s heart breaking into millions of pieces. And it hurts. Even has lost yet another friend. It hurts so much.

“I’m so sorry,” Isak blurts out at the same time as the veterinarian.

.

Even cannot stop crying. He cries as they exit the clinic. He cries when they get to the street. He cries in the car. He cries in the apartment. He sobs hysterically until Isak climbs into his bunk bed and holds him.

Isak just holds him from behind, spoons him, shields him, is simply _there_ for him while he cries.

Isak just holds Even until he falls asleep.

.

When they both come to, it’s Monday morning and Even head is on Isak’s chest.  

“I can’t believe my dog had to die in order for you to climb into my bunk bed,” Even says and it’s _messed up_ and _too soon,_ but he’s trying.

“That’s fucked up, Even,” Isak laughs quietly, his fingers in Even’s hair, pulling gently, soothing him.

“I’m doing my best.”

“Your best is enough,” Isak replies and he means it. “You’re doing so great. I’m proud of you.”

Even shifts on his chest then twines both arms around Isak’s waist, holding him tight, too tight, like he might break without it. And Isak lets him.

Isak has been so focused on taking Even’s pain away that he hasn’t had time to think about how he’s never been held like this before, about how he’s never spent a night in a boy’s bed before, about he’s never spooned and held another boy before.

Isak’s breathing quickens and his heart’s pounding is the only sound in the room.

Even’s face finds its way to the crook of Isak’s neck, arms still hugging his waist. They hold each  other and cuddle until Isak feels like he might die if he doesn’t kiss him.

“I love you so much,” Even says against his neck. And it’s so raw and so big and so amazing and so scary. Isak can’t breathe. He can barely move. “Thank you for being my friend.”

.

Even takes Isak to watch a movie. He promises it will get nominated for an Oscar and Isak doesn’t have the heart to tell him that he doesn’t care for the Oscars.

The movie is as pretentious as Isak suspected it would be and he stops paying attention thirty minutes in. He steals glances here and there, and he waits. He’s not sure what he’s hoping for, but he waits and hopes nonetheless.

Isak is about to fall asleep when Even slips his hand into his own. It’s hesitant at first, as if they’re accidentally brushing hands. Then his palm is sliding against Isak’s before their fingers lace like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Their fingers are entwined and Isak isn’t sure he can breathe anymore. For some reason, holding hands in a dark theater at a 14:00 screening no one else has bothered showing up to is  the most intimate thing Isak has ever experienced in his life. He’s grateful for the darkness in the theater. Grateful for the loud score of the movie on screen. Isak is grateful because his heart is  about to burst.

“Is this okay?” Even asks quietly.

“This is okay.”

.

They keep holding hands as they exit the movie theater, Isak still numb with happiness, and Even grinning like an idiot. They walk into McDonald’s and Even insists on paying for Isak’s Big Mac.

“What is this? Are we on a date?” Isak jokes.

“You’ve just realized?” Even smiles and it’s so sweet.

They take the tram home and this time Isak reaches for his hand, quietly, like he can’t help it. It’s so sweet. Everything involving  Even is always so sweet.

“I like your hands,” Isak admits. “They’re so big.”

He half expects Even to make a joke about his big hands being put to better use, but he doesn’t. He just leans in and kisses Isak’s forehead.

“And I like you,” Even beams.

Isak blushes and scrambles for a response. “Because I’m so big?”

“I don’t know about that yet but I have high hopes.”

Isak shoves him and they laugh. Four stops before his own, Isak leans his head against Even’s shoulder. And it’s sweet and tender. Like everything they always do.

* * *

**sweetest ❤️**

**21:21**

Thanks for hanging out with me today <3

Do you always thank people who go watch a movie with you?

Only the ones who don’t like their birthdays but refer to me as their birthday

What weirdo said that to you :O

I don’t know i have weird taste :(

Oh wow  
It’s 21:21

?

Did you know that i was born at 21:21?

On june 21st?

Yup

That’s kinda really cool  
All this symmetry     
Explains why you get a boner talking science

Shut up no i don’t

Oh so that was for me? :O

Ugh fine it was for science  
Also i just really love 21:21

You mean the minute?

You make me sound weird  
People get boners over 11:11 all the time

Haha  
We both get turned on by weird things it’s ok

Excuse me. I don’t get turned on by feet

The slander  
it's ankles!! not feet  
We must admit we have a lot in common

I don’t see much besides the daddy issues

The what

Daddy issues  
But it’s cool that we got absent fathers   
we can call each other daddy without feeling weird

uh what?

lol what do you mean what

Why would you call me daddy?

Uhh

Isak   
Do you think of me as your dad?

Uh wtf  
Are you for real..

HAHAHAHA joking!!!!

Omg wtf is your problem

Hahhahaha  
I wish i could see your face right now

Jesus christ you freaked me out

You can call me daddy any time ❤️

Conversation about to end

i finally understand why my dad left  
he wanted to give me this ❤️

omg shut up EVEN

* * *

Isak hasn’t seen Even in a few days and he visits his apartment with anxiety curling in his stomach when he suspects it could be an episode.

It isn’t. Even is upset but it’s not an episode. His father was in town but never bothered seeing him, yet again.

“I’m never enough for him.”

Isak waits on him for a few hours, then a few days.

Exasperated, Isak makes his way to Even’s place with beer by the end of the week and takes over his laptop and his TV account.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re gonna have beer and watch Game of Thrones,” Isak replies.

“What?!”

“Ugh! Listen to me you gorgeous beautiful kind-hearted giraffe!” Isak almost shouts in his direction. “Fuck that crap about giving up things for people who hurt you. Fuck them and fuck people taking things away from us! You’re gonna have a beer today. But just one! And we’re gonna catch up on Game of Thrones because fuck your dad!”

Isak is feeling brave tonight. He wishes he was brave enough to add that he trusts Even with his life and that he needs to kiss him, but he isn’t. Not tonight.

They drink beer and they watch Game of Thrones.

* * *

**sweetest ❤️**

**20:47**

When are you gonna kiss me?

Uhm  
Is this a trick question?

No

Are you seriously texting me in the middle of a party?

You’re like three couches away

Ohm y god

* * *

“You’re unbelievable,” Even laughs as he settles against the wall next to Isak by the kitchen. They’re alone in their corner and it’s nice and private.

Isak is wearing his favorite reversed snapback and his favorite jacket. The house has expensive carpets so they’re all in their socks. He’s sure someone might steal or accidentally take his shoes before the end of the party, but he doesn’t really care.

“It got you to ditch those people and talk to me instead so,” Isak shrugs with a smile at the corner of his lips.

Isak looks down and notices a hole in his sock by his big toe. It’s quite a large one, too. Isak wonders if his toe will be sticking out by the end of the night. He wonders if anyone will notice.

“You could have just texted me to come over. No need to joke about kissing,” says Even.

“I wasn’t joking.”

Suddenly, there isn’t nearly enough air in the room anymore. Isak knows he can still make this light and breezy. Knows he can turn this into a joke, talk about the hole in his sock, maybe. But he doesn’t want to. Because as much as he enjoys the tiptoeing and the flirting and the orbiting around one another, his insecurities are soaring in his heart, too. Even has never initiated a kiss, has never pursued him like he knows he can pursue him. It’s been weeks, months, and Even still won’t kiss him. Isak just needs to know.

He just needs-

Even’s eyes get stuck somewhere on his chest right between his collarbones, and Isak wonders why he’s staring so intensely. But then his long fingers reach out and poke him on the chest.

For a moment, Isak wonders if he’s trying to literally _touch his heart_ , like he hasn’t already. But Even’s finger is pressing against the all too familiar metal that’s been keeping him warm since his birthday.

The ring. The ring Even got him for his birthday, hanging around his neck. Vilde has done such a great job turning it into a necklace he hides beneath his shirt at all times.

“My ring,” Even breathes and he’s beautiful.

“Your ring.”

“On your heart.”

Isak gets lost in the blue of his eyes and reaches for Even’s hands over his chest, his heart.  

“Where it belongs,” Isak mumbles.

Even stares at him like he can’t believe him and Isak wants to tell him a million tender things until he’s convinced that he deserves it. He looks down on the hole in his sock instead, suddenly too overwhelmed, too everything. And Even looks down at his feet, too. He wonders what he’s thinking. If he’s thinking about their foot fetish jokes or about how Isak should take better care of his socks.

Even slides his own foot over his own, covering the hole in Isak’s sock. And it’s so sweet and intimate that Isak looks back up and blinks at him.

“I’ll patch you up anywhere you need,” Even breathes and it’s cheesy and stupid, but it makes Isak’s heart swell.

“Kiss me,” he whispers, lips parted, skin burning to be touched.

“But it hurts you.”

“Nothing hurts when I’m with you.”

The kiss is tender and open-mouthed, both of them aching to give more than to take. One of Even’s hands is on his neck while the other is on his waist, pulling him closer like he needs him to breathe. Isak’s fingers settle on Even’s face, his favorite face, thumbing, caressing, stroking.

Isak has never been kissed or touched like this before, and it breaks him. It absolutely shatters him. His chest is heaving.

Even breaks the kiss before it can get heated and drags him outside by the hand. His strides are long and purposeful despite wearing nothing but socks, and Isak is dizzy despite the cold air that slaps his skin.

Isak’s back is against a wall again, except it’s dark and they’re under a tree that shrouds the street lights. Isak feels safe. Isak feels cared for. Isak who’s never been touched but who’s acted like he has for so long that he didn’t realize just how overwhelming being touched in public actually is.  

But Even did. Even always did. Always.

His large warm hands are on Isak’s face and it’s hard to breathe, to focus, to move.

“Your firsts. I can make them better. If you want,” Even whispers and it’s shy and nervous and it’s perfect. “If you’ll let me.”

“Even,” Isak breathes and he’s feeling tender and soft, so soft, for him.

“I want to mend your heart like you’ve mended mine. If you’ll let me—”

Isak removes his snapback and places it on Even’s head—reversed like he was wearing it—to angle his own against the wall the way he means to. He gets on his tiptoes, hoping to be taller when he turns eighteen, leans in, and kisses Even’s open mouth. He kisses him and he gives him all the tenderness he bears for him in his heart, in his bones, in his soul. Even has managed to smile his way into his bloodstream and Isak doesn’t ever want him to leave it, ever.

He kisses him with all the longing and pining and aching he’s concealed in his heart ever since Even’s liked that stupid post on his Instagram. He kisses him like he meant to kiss him in the pool, and on his bedroom floor, and in front of his apartment building, and in the movie theater, and in the tram, and outside the veterinarian, and in his bunk bed, and at every party they’ve been to together. Isak kisses him the only way he knows how. On his tiptoes, chin tilted, hands nervous but brave, lips quivering and willing, heart open and naked.

Isak kisses him like he loves him.

And Even kisses him like he loves him back.

Their kisses get sloppy and there’s tongue and they’re making out and Even’s arms lock around Isak’s waist and he lifts him off the ground a bit because he’s an idiot. And then they’re laughing against each other’s lips and Isak can’t take it, can’t take this, the happiness. Isak is numb with happiness.

_‘I want to mend your heart like you mended mine.”_

“You already have,” he blurts out once they separate. “Mended my heart.”

Even kisses him again and this time it lasts longer, Isak desperately sliding his hands under Even’s shirt and feeling his back like he can’t believe it. They kiss until their mouths get sore, until Isak is positive he’ll never forget what Even tastes and smells like. They kiss until Isak can no longer say he’s never been kissed, never been touched. Even pressed him against the wall and gives and gives and gives him everything until Isak is writhing, exhausted, blissful, shaking, the hurt threatening to burst out of him.

And Even can tell. Even can always tell, Even who _observes_ him. He slows down and cups Isak’s face and searches it so carefully. So so carefully. But Isak can’t bear it and he latches onto him again, this time to hug his shoulders and just feel him and breathe him in.

“Baby—” Even sighs like he knows, like he knows Isak is hurting.

“Please don’t hurt me. Please, Even—” he chokes up. “I can’t bear it. I can’t—”

Isak knows that _‘I will never hurt you’_ would have done the job in such settings. He knows he would have swallowed the words and cherished them. But Even settles for no words instead. He just hold him as he finally lets all his fears out, the jadedness, and the sarcasm, and the wit, and the hurt, and the walls. He waits for his walls to go down on a dark corner under a tree and he holds him through it all.

.

Later that night, when they walk hand in hand to Isak’s house—where he plans to have Even stay the night and touch him the way he aches to be touched, then introduce him to his mother in the morning because he’s going to fix their relationship and work on it until he can massage his mother’s feet after a long day without it being weird—Even nudges him with a smile and Isak smiles right back.

“What are you thinking about?”

“If people were minutes in the day—” Even trails off, thinking. “You would definitely be _this_ minute.”

Isak looks at his iPhone. It’s 21:21. He gapes at it.  

“It’s 21:21,” Isak says.

“I know,” Even smiles, gesturing to his watch.

“So I’m my time of birth?”

“No, you’re _this_ minute.”

“Let me guess,” Isak rolls his eyes. “I make you happy?”

“Shit. Have I already used this line on you before?” Even grimaces.

“Idiot!” Isak shoves him then finds himself pulled into a sweet, dizzying kiss.  

_Something sweet to mend my heart._

“If people were minutes in the day, you would be 21:21, too,” Isak whispers and he’s flushed. He knows he is.

“I make you happy, too?” Even grins.

“Try again.”

“I’m your time of birth, the first time you cried.”

“No,” Isak laughs.

“What is it then? Why am I 21:21? What does 21:21 make you feel like?”

Isak laughs because he knows he’s going to sound like the world’s biggest idiot right now. He knows it. But he also knows that Even will cherish it, that Even won’t believe it and that he needs Even to believe it.

So he cups Even’s face and leans in.

_I feel like you've been there for me since the beginning. I feel like every minute with you is my favorite minute of the day. I feel like you were made for me. I feel like I wasn't living until I met you. I feel like everything before you was a blur._

Isak settles for simpler words.

"I feel like I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have out-cheesed mYSELF!!!!! hope you liked this <3
> 
> (jaded!Isak in this was literally me in high school. i was very hurt and i met someone who laughed at my mean jokes and who just wanted to be there for me. the final kiss scene is something i lived through so it was very cathartic writing it. unfortunately life is weird, and my sweet person's mother was horrible to me/very racist so we went separate ways. we still talk. it's still sweet <3)
> 
> forgive me for killing Edvard here. he's living a long life in another universe as we speak. couldn't help the sock thing. i already had this written so i had to SQUEEEZE it in haha
> 
> i love writing oneshots. i have about 20 thousand ideas as you know if you bear me on twitter. i'm thinking of getting to 21 verses and then galloping away haha.  
> the touch-starved!verse and the rich!Isak verse are all i can think about lately help. the headcanons you've been sending already have my heart aching.
> 
> let me know in the comments if you felt something, anything for these two. <3 thank you so much for all the comments and kudos on this omg <333333 love love love youuu


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